Tinystar's Beginning: Fire and Ice
by Twilidramon
Summary: Tinyclaw is now a warrior of ThunderClan - but the chill of winter is settling in, and dangers lurk at every corner of the forest. The Clans are growing restless, and Tinyclaw fears not only for his safety, but the safety of ThunderClan. Battle is imminent, and a betrayal from within ThunderClan might spell the end for Tinyclaw. Rated T for safety.
1. Allegiances

**Welcome to _Tinystar's Beginning: Fire and Ice!_ I'm so glad to be able to write this, and I'm really excited for you all to see the changes I've made. This story, like the one before it, will stick to the main plot of the original _Fire and Ice_ book – but there will be some differences. What are they? You'll have to read to find out!**

**If you haven't read _Tinystar's Beginning: Into the Wild,_ you ought to - but you won't be lost if you haven't. These stories follow the main plot of the books, with my own deviations, and most things that happened in the previous installment are covered in the first chapter of this book.**

**Today is my birthday, too; I thought it fitting to do myself a favor and finally post this story. Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>ALLEGIANCES:<strong>

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><p><strong>THUNDERCLAN:<strong>

Leader: Tigerstar – big dark brown tabby tom with unusually long front claws

Deputy: Bluefur – blue-gray she-cat with a silver muzzle (expecting kits)

Medicine Cat: Yellowfang – old dark gray she-cat with a broad, flattened face; formerly of ShadowClan

Warriors:

Oakheart – a reddish brown tom (Bluefur's mate)

Whitestorm – big white tom _(Sandpaw)_

Darkstripe – sleek black-and-gray tabby tom _(Dustpaw)_

Longtail – pale tabby tom with dark stripes _(Brightpaw)_

Runningwind – swift tabby tom

Willowpelt – very pale gray she-cat with unusual blue eyes

Mousefur – small dusky brown she-cat

Graystripe – long-haired gray tom with a dark stripe along his spine _(Cinderpaw)_

Tinyclaw – very small black tom with one white paw _(Brackenpaw)_

Apprentices:

Dustpaw – dark brown tabby tom

Sandpaw – pale ginger she-cat with green eyes

Brightpaw – white-and-ginger she-cat

Cinderpaw – fluffy gray she-cat

Brackenpaw – golden brown tabby tom

Queens:

Frostfur – white-pelted she-cat with beautiful blue eyes (mother of Cinderpaw, Brackenpaw, Thornkit, and Swiftkit)

Brindleface – pretty tabby (mother of Ashkit and Fernkit)

Speckletail – pale tabby, eldest queen (mother of Brightpaw and Snowkit – deaf white tom)

Elders:

Halftail – big dark brown tabby tom with part of his tail missing

Smallear – gray tom with small ears, eldest ThunderClan tom

Patchpelt – small black-and-white tom

One-eye – pale gray she-cat, eldest cat in ThunderClan; virtually blind and deaf

Dappletail – once-pretty tortoiseshell she-cat with a lovely dappled coat

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><p><strong>SHADOWCLAN:<strong>

Leader: Nightpelt – black tom

Deputy: Cinderfur – thin gray tom

Medicine Cat: Runningnose – small gray-and-white tom

Warriors:

Stumpytail – brown tabby tom _(Brownpaw)_

Wetfoot – gray tabby tom

Littlecloud - small tabby tom

Whitethroat – black-and-white tom

Apprentices:

Brownpaw – mottled brown-and-ginger tabby tom

Queens:

Dawncloud – small tabby

Brightflower – black-and-white she-cat

Elders:

Ashtail – thin gray tom

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><p><strong>WINDCLAN:<strong>

Leader: Tallstar – black and white tom with a very long tail

Deputy: Deadfoot – solid black tom with a twisted paw

Medicine Cat: Barkface – a short-tailed brown tom

Warriors:

Mudclaw – mottled dark brown tom _(Webpaw)_

Tornear – tabby tom _(Runningpaw)_

Onewhisker – young, lithe brown tabby tom _(Whitepaw)_

Apprentices:

Webpaw – dark gray tabby tom

Runningpaw – light gray-and-brown tabby she-cat

Whitepaw – small white she-cat

Queens:

Ashfoot – a gray queen

Morningflower – tortoiseshell queen

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><p><strong>RIVERCLAN:<strong>

Leader: Crookedstar – huge light brown tabby with a twisted jaw

Deputy: Leopardfur – unusually spotted golden tabby she-cat

Medicine Cat: Mudfur – long-haired light brown tom

Warriors:

Blackclaw – smoky black tom _(Heavypaw)_

Brambleclaw – big dark brown tabby tom _(Shadepaw)_

Tawnypelt – tortoiseshell she-cat

Loudbelly – a dark brown tom _(Silverpaw)_

Silverstream – pretty slender silver tabby she-cat

Apprentices:

Heavypaw – stocky, thickset tabby tom

Shadepaw – very dark gray she-cat

Silverpaw – solid silver-gray tom

Queens:

Graypool – a thin, very dark gray she-cat with a scarred pelt

Elders:

Goldenflower – pale ginger tabby she-cat

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><p><strong>CATS OUTSIDE THE CLANS:<strong>

Rusty – handsome ginger tom with green eyes; kittypet

Fiona – lovely long-haired white she-cat with pretty blue eyes; kittypet

Cloudkit – ginger-and-white she-kit with long fur, pale blue eyes

Smudge – plump black-and-white kittypet

Barley – black-and-white loner, lives on the farm close to the forest

Ravenpaw – skinny black tom with a white chest and tail-tip; formerly of ThunderClan

Brokenstar – long-haired dark brown tabby; formerly of ShadowClan

Blackfoot – large white tom with huge black paws; formerly of ShadowClan

Clawface – battle-scarred brown tom; formerly of ShadowClan

Russetfur - dark ginger she-cat; formerly of ShadowClan

Boulder – silver tabby tom; formerly of ShadowClan


	2. Prologue

**Here's where the real story begins! If you recall, the prologue for _Fire and Ice_ was WindClan - but this prologue focuses on a different side of the story...**

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><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

_The night was cool and the_ sky was clear as Fiona slipped out of her Twoleg nest. The cold cat-flap slid across her back, and she grunted as her swollen stomach took a little wiggling to get free. She took a moment, sitting on the stones leading away from the nest's back door, to groom down her now-ruffled pelt.

Fiona's long, well-kept white fur shone in the moonlight as she padded along the stones and into the grass. She could hear the sounds of the night all around her – crickets, bats, and even an owl's hoot. She could hear the rumble of a housefolk's monster passing by. It swept by, and there was silence.

The she-cat trotted to her fence. Fiona leaped onto one of the posts, her collar jingling at the rush of movement. She sat there a moment, tail wrapped around her paws, looking into the woods.

She had heard the rumors – all the housecats here had – of the groups of wild cats who lived in the forest, prowling about and eating bones. Fiona had no desire to find out whether those rumors were true or not – especially now.

"Out there are savages," purred a voice.

"As if there are none here!" countered Fiona. Her tone was light, and she purred as the ginger tom approached, balancing expertly on the fence. She greeted him with a touch to the nose. "Don't try and scare me like that, Rusty. It's not nice!"

Rusty was purring as he settled beside her. The warmth of his fur felt nice in contrast to the chilly night air. The leaves in the forest were rustling, turning red and falling to the ground in heaps. Soon enough housefolk and their kits would be playing out in the rustling leaves.

"Sorry," Rusty offered. "I couldn't help it – it feels like it's been forever since you and I have seen one another."

Fiona purred. She pressed closer to Rusty, warmth flooding her pelt. She pulled away, bristling, as she felt something wet and sticky pressing onto her fur.

"Rusty!" she hissed. There was a long cut on Rusty's shoulder – it was bleeding slightly. Fiona narrowed her eyes at her mate. "You _promised_ you wouldn't be fighting those alley-cats anymore!"

Rusty's ears pricked, and he cursed. He bent his head to clean the cut, and he panted between licks, "I'm sorry, Fiona – it couldn't be avoided!"

Fiona narrowed her eyes. "Those cats are nothing but brutes, Rusty," she growled. "They'll hurt you someday, I know they will! I don't want to see you hurt…"

Rusty looked up at her, and Fiona could see her own misery in his eyes.

"I'm expecting kits, Rusty," Fiona confessed. _"Our_ kits."

Rusty's eyes widened. For a moment, he was silent. Fiona curled her tail around herself, wondering if she had said something wrong. _What if he doesn't want the kits?_ She thought, trembling a little.

She looked away from him and insisted, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have -"

"Are you really?" Rusty asked.

Fiona looked back at him. He looked interested, and she nodded. "I went to the vet yesterday with my housefolk," Fiona explained. "From what I could make out… and what I can feel myself… it's true. I am expecting kits – due when the snows come."

"That's amazing!" Rusty decided, his eyes sparkling. He licked her cheek affectionately, purring. "I can't wait to meet them!"

Fiona couldn't help but look at him in shock. All the other cats Fiona had met who claimed to be Rusty's "mates" had expressed just how noncommittal he was towards them. It had planted a small seed of doubt about their relationship within Fiona's heart.

"You're… not upset?" she murmured.

"Why would I be?" Rusty wondered. "I love kits! I told you about my brother, didn't I?"

Fiona nodded. Yes, Rusty had told her the tale of his runty half-brother who traveled into the forest. Rusty had told her fondly of all the times the two of them had played and all the things that Rusty had taught him before leaving his housefolk. They were close, and Fiona knew that Rusty missed him terribly.

"He was like a kit of my own," Rusty told her. He gently touched his nose to her swelling stomach. "These kits, though… they'll be _my_ kits. _Our_ kits. There's no other cat I'd rather have kits with, Fiona. I love you."

Fiona's heart swelled and she pressed her cheek into Rusty's. The seed of doubt was gone, scorched away by the warmth of Rusty's love. They purred, tails twined, for a long moment. The stars winked down at them, and the chilly air didn't seem to be able to penetrate their love-warmed pelts.

Eventually, Fiona felt Rusty's head move. She could see him staring off into the woods, his eyes narrowed in thought.

"Are… Are you thinking of Shoe?" Fiona asked quietly.

Rusty nodded. Solemnly, he meowed, "He might not get to meet our kits."

"Have you heard anything about Shoe lately?" Fiona asked, glancing into the forest. An owl hooted again somewhere within its depths. Could the little cat still be alive in there?

"I met Smudge not too long ago," Rusty mewed. "He said he'd run into Shoe – but he's called Tinypaw now."

"Tinypaw?" Fiona repeated. "What an odd name!"

Rusty shrugged. "Apparently it's a Clan thing," he grunted. "Smudge said that they had accepted him, and they were training him – but that they weren't too friendly to housecats, and that Smudge was lucky it was Tinypaw who found him."

Fiona shivered. "Those Clans sound so dangerous…" she murmured. With a flash, she narrowed her eyes at Rusty and demanded, "How could you let your little brother get caught up in that? Who knows what they've done to him!"

Rusty flattened his ears. "Shoe – er, Tinypaw… He told me that when he met those Clan cats that they were severe, but strong. His eyes shone like stars when he talked about that meeting. Fiona, how could I stop him from following his heart? He wouldn't try to do that to me."

Fiona sighed. She kneaded her paws against the fence post, glancing into the woods. "I do wish he could meet our kits, though," she sighed. "Do you think maybe we could… ask if he could see them?"

Rusty squared his shoulders and growled, "I don't want you messing with those cats, Fiona." His nicked ear twitched. "They're strong, and they don't hesitate to hurt trespassers."

Fiona frowned. It just felt so strange that Shoe – _no, Tinypaw_ – would never see his kin. Surely he couldn't just forget what his life had been here, with his housefolk? He wouldn't just forget about his brother, would he?

"Let's not worry about that," Rusty mewed. His eyes brightened. "I'm sure someone will see Tinypaw again sometime soon. For now, you and I have some celebrating to do – let's go tell Nutmeg and Princess. They'll be so excited! Princess just had a litter herself, you know – all toms!"

Fiona purred. "Maybe they can give me some tips," she decided, putting her mate's brother out of her mind. "My stomach's already becoming a burden!"

Rusty purred, and then stood. He led the way, balancing expertly on the fence. Fiona followed, but she paused as a chilly wind gusted through the air. She heard it rustling the trees. In the breeze, somewhere far off, Fiona could have sworn she heard a cat squeal.

Fiona lifted her head, ears pricked. _What was that?_ She wondered. The tales of the savage forest cats came back, and she bristled, imagining claws piercing flesh.

The wind died down, and all was silent.

"Fiona, are you coming?"

Fiona blinked at her mate's voice. _Must have been my imagination,_ she thought. She turned and followed Rusty down the fence, her long white fur swaying to and fro.

_Just my imagination…_


	3. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

_Tinyclaw shivered. His night-black fur,_ thin and greenleaf-light, felt like it had been coated with a layer of frost. It was now clear that leaf-fall was here, and leaf-bare was fast approaching. The ThunderClan camp seemed to sparkle all around him, coated in a thin layer of frost that would melt into dewdrops as soon as the sun rose.

He glanced to his side, feeling the warmth of his friend, Graystripe, beside him. The gray tom's pelt was far thicker than Tinyclaw's, but the strip of darker gray down his spine was still bristling with chill. Tinyclaw nudged him, wishing he could outwardly express how cold he was – but neither of them could speak, for this was their warrior's vigil.

Graystripe and Tinyclaw shared a glance, yellow eyes into ice-blue, and in them Tinyclaw could tell that his friend was reliving the events of the night before – the night they proved their worth beyond a doubt and became warriors of ThunderClan.

The victory at the ShadowClan camp was something Tinyclaw would never forget – he hadn't thought he would participate in something so amazing the moment he stepped away from his kittypet life two whole seasons ago.

He saw Brokenstar and his cronies fleeing the ShadowClan camp, spitting threats, as his former warriors chased him. He remember the cries of victory from the liberated warriors as their oppressive and abusive finally left them for good. Their kits would no longer die for nothing, forced into early apprenticeships by Brokenstar's crooked regime. The dark shadow that had haunted the forest since before Tinyclaw arrived in ThunderClan was gone, and ShadowClan had a moon of peace to rebuild.

Yet, with one shadow in the forest gone, another remained much closer to home. Tinyclaw glanced into the warrior's den, seeing the pale shape of Bluefur's flanks rising and falling in the shadows of the leaves. Tinyclaw kneaded his paws into the hardening earth as he recalled what had been revealed to him just before the frantic search for Yellowfang and the battle with ShadowClan by his friend Ravenpaw – that Bluefur had murdered Redtail, ThunderClan deputy before Tinyclaw came into the forest, in cold blood.

He was still partially reeling from disbelief – Bluefur had taught Tinyclaw everything he knew about surviving in the forest. Part of him couldn't help but think of her as nothing other than a loyal warrior and a fierce, relentless fighter – but now that he knew the truth, and he suspected that _she_ knew he knew, it was hard to look at her and see the mentor he had looked up to anymore.

Tinyclaw watched his former mentor's belly rise and fall – it hadn't been that long since the Clan deputy had told Tinyclaw that she was expecting kits by her mate, Oakheart, who slept close beside her. Soon enough Bluefur would have to move into the nursery.

_How much can she plot from there?_ Tinyclaw wondered. He shook his head – Bluefur did not need her claws to plot trouble. He remembered lurking in the woods, listening in as Bluefur plotted with Darkstripe and Longtail to get rid of Ravenpaw and brand him as a traitor, all so she could kill the only cat who knew the truth about what she had done.

Tinyclaw remembered running through the rain with Graypaw and Ravenpaw, across the moorland at the far side of the forest. He was leading Ravenpaw to safety, away from the Clan – away from Bluefur – and now the Clan believed he was dead. Ravenpaw was safe in the uplands now, probably settling in with Barley, the ratter who lived in an old Twoleg barn.

At least, Tinyclaw hoped he'd made it.

Tinyclaw shook his head – he was supposed to reflect on what had made him a warrior, not these dark thoughts. He looked again at Graystripe. The other warrior seemed more than ready to leap into a warm nest, his pelt fluffed out to the ends. Tinyclaw pressed closer to his bulky friend, hoping that his small size would make it easier to warm up.

The leaves of the elder's den twitched, and Tinyclaw spotted Halftail stirring. The elderly warrior was stretching in his den, and he glanced at the two warriors sitting their vigil with a sparkle of amusement in his eyes.

Dawn was breaking in the forest, and red-orange light spilled into the ravine-sheltered camp. Trees glowed in the morning light, and Tinyclaw couldn't help but purr as he felt the sun's warm rays absorbing into his dark, dark pelt. Graystripe seemed more excited too, kneading his fluffy paws into the ground.

Tinyclaw glanced around the camp. Sandpaw and Dustpaw were stirring in the apprentice's den, alone now that Tinyclaw and Graystripe were warriors and Ravenpaw was "dead". Dustpaw yawned underneath the bush and glared at Tinyclaw and Graystripe, envy in his eyes. Sandpaw glanced at them, a pale blur in the den, her eyes resting on Tinyclaw for but a moment.

That moment was enough to send heat through Tinyclaw's pelt. Ever since he had come to the forest he had wanted nothing more than to be Sandpaw's friend – her father, Redtail, had been murdered the day that Tinyclaw had joined ThunderClan, though, and it seemed to put a rift between them. Tinyclaw couldn't help but let his tail bristle at the sight of her pale fur and pale green gaze, and he recalled every instance of Graystripe and Ravenpaw teasing him about his crush.

He felt Graystripe nudge him out of his trance. Tinyclaw glanced at his friend, and Graystripe nodded towards the Highrock. Tinyclaw shifted to look back at the Clan leader's den. The lichen that draped over Tigerstar's private quarters twitched as the massive, board-shouldered tom strode out into the clearing. The sun dappled his sleek dark brown tabby pelt, making him look more like the striped golden beasts of legend.

_I need to warn him about Bluefur!_ Tinyclaw thought. Tigerstar had mourned Redtail's death with the rest of the Clan, believing his old friend and deputy to be killed by Swiftclaw, the former RiverClan deputy, at a battle for Sunningrocks that went awry. Tinyclaw had hesitated before, knowing that Bluefur's support was important to Tigerstar and ThunderClan, but Tigerstar needed to know – he _needed to understand_ – that he was harboring a murderer!

As if his thoughts summoned her, Bluefur slid out of the warrior's den. She stretched, her belly wobbling with new weight, and then padded over to Tigerstar. The two settled down, tails over paws, discussing something quietly.

Tinyclaw kneaded his paws impatiently into the ground. He wanted to leap to Tigerstar and shout to the whole Clan what he knew about Bluefur – but he would have to wait, and it would be a bad idea. Trying to prove what Bluefur had done without revealing Ravenpaw's location would be problematic, and the whole Clan would most likely doubt him. He needed to speak with Tigerstar alone.

The sun was sliding into the sky when Whitestorm woke. To Tinyclaw's relief, the white warrior strode across the clearing to meet the two warriors.

"Glad to see the dawn?" he purred good-naturedly.

Tinyclaw and Graystripe nodded.

"It's all right; you may speak," Whitestorm assured them. "Your vigil is complete."

Tinyclaw let out a gasp of relief, and Graystripe sighed loudly beside him. He looked up gratefully at the older warrior – yesterday they had fought side-by-side to drive out Brokenstar. Now they were equals in all but experience. "Thank you, Whitestorm," he purred.

Graystripe's teeth were chattering. "I thought the sun would never come up!" he chittered, shivering.

"Look, Sandpaw – the great new warriors speak!"

Tinyclaw sighed, seeing Dustpaw and Sandpaw approaching from the apprentice's den. Dustpaw's dark fur was fluffed up, while Sandpaw was rolling her pale eyes behind him. She did not look at Tinyclaw as Dustpaw mocked, "I'm surprised such important warriors even _feel_ the cold!"

Whitestorm narrowed his eyes sternly at the apprentices. "Enough of that," he rumbled. He looked at Tinyclaw and Graystripe and said, "Find something to eat, and then rest – you've earned it." Turning his back on the new warriors, he said to the other apprentices, "It's time for your training!"

"I hope he has them chasing blue shrews," Graystripe grumbled as Whitestorm led the two apprentices off.

Tinyclaw flicked his ear. "There aren't any blue shrews," he pointed out.

"Exactly!" Graystripe purred.

Tinyclaw rolled his eyes. "You can't blame them completely," he reminded Graystripe. "They did begin their training a moon before us." The two warriors headed off to the fresh-kill pile. "If they'd been in the battle yesterday, they might have been made warriors too."

"I suppose," Graystripe sighed. He glanced at the fresh-kill pile. It was sparse, with a few scraps of fur and only three or four whole pieces of prey to speak of. Tinyclaw's belly rumbled. "Look at that! One mouse each, and a chaffinch to share."

They picked up their meal in their jaws, and Graystripe flicked his tail, mouth stuffed, to the other side of the camp, by the warrior's den. Tinyclaw felt a trill of pride – they ate at the _warrior's_ end now! How exciting!

The two settled by a patch of nettles smelling of ThunderClan warriors, gulping down their fresh-kill. It was a little on the not-so-fresh side, but it was still delicious. Tinyclaw's belly felt stuffed full for what felt like the first time in moons, and he groomed himself clean.

"Sleep?" Graystripe wondered, licking his lips clean.

"Sleep," Tinyclaw agreed.

The two padded into the warrior's den. It was warm there, filled with the scents of ThunderClan warriors. There was a bare spot at the very back, in one of the corners. He and Graystripe stepped around the resting warrior Runningwind as they made their way to the bare spot. They scraped together nests and circled before settling down, pelts pressed together.

" 'Night," Graystripe offered tiredly.

Tinyclaw only yawned in response. Graystripe settled in the nest, his head on his paws. He was asleep almost instantly. Tinyclaw did the same, resting his head on his paws, curling his tail over his nose. He closed his eyes, and sleep swept over him like a black wave.

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><p>An acrid smell caused Tinyclaw to open his eyes. Tinyclaw was standing in the middle of a rotten field of dried-up grass. A fire flickered in the distance, small but hot and glowing. He knew that stench, though – it was the Thunderpath! He had never smelled it so strong – it was as if there were more than one. He looked up, and reeled as he saw Thunderpaths spiraling up, up into the sky.<p>

The smoke from the fire curled into the sky, weaving between the Thunderpaths. Cinders glowed, speckling like stars. Tinyclaw followed the smoke trail down to the small, flickering fire, amazed that it was throwing up so much smoke – he was even more amazed when he saw a lean shape flicker before the fire.

It was a cat!

He was tall, lean, and lanky, the firelight outlining his body. It was no cat that Tinyclaw recognized – but the cat raised its long, spindly tail to him, as if in greeting. The strange cat's eyes glowed.

A voice burst through the dream – Spottedleaf's voice! The former ThunderClan medicine cat, murdered by one of Brokenstar's warriors, was talking to him: "The smallest cat will save the Clan!"

Tinyclaw trembled – those words were the last that Spottedleaf had ever spoken to him, and Tinyclaw had no idea what she meant. Did it have something to do with this cat, who showed no fear of fire no matter the size?

"Tinyclaw, wake up!"

Bluefur's growl startled Tinyclaw out of his dream. His head snapped to attention, finding her blazing blue eyes narrowing into his.

"You were mewing in your sleep!" she hissed.

Dazed, Tinyclaw sat up. He shook his head, and gave Bluefur a nod. "Sorry," he offered. He wondered if he had repeated Spottedleaf's words aloud. Tinyclaw couldn't help but shiver – according to Yellowfang, only medicine cats had dreams that vivid… and Tinyclaw had had similar dreams before, dreams that had, unfortunately, come true. Why did he have powers StarClan normally gave to medicine cats? Who was sending these dreams?

Moonlight shone in shafts through the small gaps in the warrior's den. Tinyclaw realized he must have slept through the whole day.

Bluefur's pelt was dappled with moonshine. "You and Graystripe will join the evening patrol," she meowed calmly. "Hurry!" She turned away from him, padding out of the den.

Tinyclaw didn't let the fur lie flat on his shoulders. He knew Bluefur well enough to know that she could lie better than a snake. If she had suspected anything about his dream, though, Tinyclaw figured her tone would have given it away.

He sighed. _You'll get yours,_ he thought. _For Redtail's sake._

_For ThunderClan's sake._

* * *

><p>Tinyclaw cleaned his whiskers. Leaf-fall was in full swing now, and the past few days had kept both new warriors busier than Tinyclaw figured he had been when he was an apprentice. He and Graystripe had just finished their evening meal, and the world was cooling down as the sun began to set. Tinyclaw glanced over at the senior warriors – Tigerstar was eating with them, Bluefur at his side.<p>

From the way that Bluefur's belly was beginning to hang low, Tinyclaw figured she was trying to get as much deputying in as she could before she was sentenced to the nursery by Yellowfang. Somehow, to Tinyclaw's despair, the blue-gray deputy always seemed to be at Tigerstar's side – and when she wasn't, she was sure to have Tinyclaw off doing _something_. Be it hunting, patrolling, or even looking for a stray herb, Bluefur made sure that Tinyclaw had no time to speak with Tigerstar alone.

Tinyclaw dug his not-so-tiny claws into the hardening earth.

"You've been staring at Tigerstar for days," Graystripe complained, lapping at his flank. "If you want to talk to him, just go _talk_ to him."

"I can't!" Tinyclaw hissed. "Bluefur is _always_ there."

"Why're you so bent on talking to Tigerstar alone, anyway?" Graystripe wondered.

"I want to tell her about Ravenpaw and Bluefur," Tinyclaw explained quietly. "I can't very well do that when Bluefur is always _right there."_

Graystripe's eyes flashed. Aside from Ravenpaw and Bluefur herself, Graystripe was the only other cat to know the truth about Redtail's death. While it was persistently in Tinyclaw's mind, Graystripe seemed to be content to stay out of it.

"You promised Ravenpaw you wouldn't tell," Graystripe pointed out.

"I feel bad," Tinyclaw admitted, "and Tigerstar was his mentor. He deserves to know what really happened – and not just to him, but to Redtail too."

"I want to remind you that we only have Ravenpaw's word that Bluefur killed Redtail," Graystripe told him. Tinyclaw threw him a look, and Graystripe flicked his tail. "Look, I trust Ravenpaw and all – but I've been thinking about it since the night he told us. If Bluefur killed Redtail and not Swiftclaw, then that would mean that Redtail would have been the one to kill Swiftclaw – and I can't believe that Redtail would murder another Clan's deputy for no reason."

"I'm not trying to make accusations against Redtail," Tinyclaw insisted. "It's Bluefur!"

Graystripe shook his head, not meeting Tinyclaw's icy gaze. "Regardless; what you're saying has dreadful implications on Redtail's honor. Bluefur's expecting kits, and no other cat had a problem with her – it was only Ravenpaw; unless there's something about her training you that I missed."

_She taught me how to kill,_ Tinyclaw thought. _How to tear out the throat of my enemy and end their life, for the betterment of my Clan. She taught me how to feel no remorse afterward, to go on with that blood on my paws and smile like I hadn't done anything wrong._ He couldn't tell Graystripe about that, though. That secret, that knowledge had been festering in his heart ever since he had nearly killed Clawface in the battle with ShadowClan.

Tinyclaw shivered uneasily. _That's between me, Bluefur, and Tigerstar,_ he thought. _Graystripe doesn't need to know._

"You think Ravenpaw would lie?" Tinyclaw asked, not accusingly.

"No," Graystripe replied. "I just… I think we should be careful. This is a tricky situation, and we could end up in serious trouble."

Tinyclaw blinked sympathetically at Graystripe, knowing he had a point. They were new warriors, not even a quarter-moon past their 'paw days. They were in no position to start hurling accusations at an expectant queen and Clan deputy.

"It's OK," Tinyclaw assured Graystripe. He licked his friend between the ears. "You can stay out of it, if you like. I can tell it makes you uncomfortable." He felt a twinge of sadness, though – Graystripe was his best friend aside from Ravenpaw. He had wanted the gray warrior by his side through it all! Yet he understood that Graystripe was feeling differently than Tinyclaw about this issue, and if anyone was going to get into a fight with Bluefur Tinyclaw would rather it be him.

Tigerstar's fur flashed, and Tinyclaw shot up. He was alone – finally! Tinyclaw moved to intercept their leader as he headed for the Highrock – but no more than one step was taken when Tinyclaw realized that Tigerstar had leaped onto the Highrock. His summons echoed through the camp like a gust of wind.

"A naming ceremony?" Graystripe guessed. "Must be Longtail's first apprentice – the snake's been dropping hints for days."

The two warriors bounded over to join the Clan as they gathered beneath the Highledge. A sturdy white she-cat, ginger splashes on her pelt, stood out before the Highledge. Tinyclaw spotted her trembling, just a little, and felt a strike of sympathy at her nervousness – Longtail certainly wouldn't be impressed!

Speckletail, the kit's mother, was offering words of encouragement from within the crowd. Tinyclaw tipped his head – Speckletail had another kit, he knew, but why wasn't he being made an apprentice, too?

"I feel kinda bad," Graystripe sighed.

"Oh?" Tinyclaw mewed. He noticed that Graystripe was looking at Speckletail too. "What for?"

"Don't you remember?" Graystripe mewed. "Speckletail's other kit, Snowkit, is deaf."

Tinyclaw felt a chill run down his spine. He'd seen the fluffy white tom playing with his sister on occasion, but had never noticed. Now the kits sluggish responses to others seemed more understandable – Tinyclaw had just thought he was shy, not deaf.

"Will he be made an apprentice?" Tinyclaw asked.

Graystripe shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted. "I heard Tigerstar talking to Bluefur and Speckletail and Yellowfang though – apparently when Snowkit's too big for the nursery he'll move into the elder's den until Tigerstar can find an appropriate mentor for him."

Tinyclaw shifted. He could see the fluffy white tom now, sitting close to his mother, blue eyes dark with wonder. His tufted ears were pricked, but now Tinyclaw knew that they were hearing nothing. _What does he think is going on, I wonder?_ Tinyclaw thought.

"From this moment forward," Tigerstar began, drawing Tinyclaw from his thoughts, "until she has earned her warrior name, this apprentice will be known as Brightpaw."

Brightpaw shuffled on her paws, glancing back at her mother and brother once more. There was a flash of uncertainty in her blue eyes, and Tinyclaw noted that Speckletail was nodding. Tinyclaw blinked with sympathy – _She wants her brother beside her!_

The crowd parted as the silver-pelted Longtail appeared. Tinyclaw craned his neck just to see the deep vee sliced into the tom's ear – given by Tinyclaw himself on accident during their bout when Tinyclaw came to the Clan. Now it was a point of pride – no matter Longtail's jeers, Tinyclaw would look at that scar and smile.

Longtail settled beside Brightpaw, looking down encouragingly at the young she-cat.

"Longtail, you were Darkstripe's apprentice," Tigerstar went on. "He taught you well, and I hope you pass on those skills to young Brightpaw."

Tinyclaw rolled his eyes as Longtail looked down at Brightpaw with pride. When they touched noses, Tinyclaw heard him say "You're doing just fine!" to her. He bristled a little, remembering their own meeting and Tinyclaw's own apprentice ceremony. _Just because she's Clanborn,_ he thought bitterly. _You won't start a fight with a Clanborn cat who was just as clueless as I was!_

"What's up with you?" Graystripe hissed. The Clan was offering encouragement and congratulations to Brightpaw and Longtail, but Tinyclaw was still feeling that resentment – that sorrow that he had never gotten such a warm welcome into the Clan. "That'll be us one day!"

Graystripe's words swept those thoughts away. The thought of Tinyclaw having his own apprentice one day made him feel a lot better – one day, he would be teaching the youth of the Clan that it didn't matter where you came from; you could still be a great warrior.

* * *

><p>The full moon shone bright the night after Brightpaw's ceremony. Tinyclaw kneaded his paws into the dirt – he knew he ought to look forward to his first Gathering as a warrior, but the fact that he still could not seem to get close to Tigerstar at all was bothering him. <em>He needs to know!<em> Tinyclaw thought earnestly, seeing the massive Clan leader chatting with Bluefur.

"You should entertain kits," Graystripe complained. "You're making some really funny faces! What's eating you, maggots?"

Tinyclaw sighed. He wished he could confide in Graystripe, but he had promised to keep the gray warrior out of it. "I'm fine," he insisted. "Come on; I hear Tigerstar calling."

Tigerstar's call sounded, and the cats who were attending the Gathering gathered around him. Tinyclaw and Graystripe hopped to their paws to join them as they padded out of the camp and into the cool forest.

The run through the woods was enough to warm up Tinyclaw's muscles – but he was keeping a steady pace, a little slower than the other warriors. He needed to work up just what he was going to say to Tigerstar when he got the chance – the exact words, so he wasn't bumbling like an apprentice.

"Hurry up!" Graystripe called. "You'll be left behind."

Tinyclaw sighed. He flexed his muscles and bounded after the Clan, Silverpelt's light on his back and the crackle of dried leaves beneath his paws.

With a pang, Tinyclaw recalled his first journey to Fourtrees – it had been with Lionheart and Bluefur, newly appointed as his mentor. After Redtail's death, the noble warrior Lionheart had been named Clan deputy – Graystripe had been so excited to be the deputy's apprentice, and the two were close. Lionheart, however, was killed by an invading ShadowClan party – and Bluefur took his place. Tinyclaw recalled the route that they had taken that day – though Tallpines, past Sunningrocks, up the river that marked the border with RiverClan, to the lovely hollow of Fourtrees.

Tinyclaw picked up the pace, padding past the other cats until he was up front with Tigerstar and Bluefur. Bluefur's ears pricked at his approach, and Tinyclaw could hear her panting though she was trying to hide it.

"Tigerstar," Tinyclaw meowed, quietly. "May I talk to you?"

Tigerstar glanced at him, and then nodded to Bluefur. "Take the lead; wait for me on the ridge," he ordered. Bluefur didn't look happy about it – her eyes flashed a warning to Tinyclaw just before she raised her tail and led the Clan past Tigerstar and Tinyclaw.

Together, leader and warrior slowed their pace until the stopped walking and they were alone in the woods. Night-sounds filled the air as the crashing of the ThunderClan party faded into silence.

"What is it, Tinyclaw?" Tigerstar asked. "Speak."

_You trust me,_ Tinyclaw thought, recalling Tigerstar's trust and all the knowledge he had shared with Tinyclaw. _Please; you trusted me to find Yellowfang – trust me now._

"Ravenpaw is not dead," Tinyclaw told him. Tigerstar's ears pricked, and his eyes filled with emotion, but he remained silent as Tinyclaw went on. "Graystripe and I took him to the uplands, to live with Barley."

Tigerstar blinked. Was he angry? Tinyclaw had hardly seen Tigerstar get upset, but his fury was legend amongst ThunderClan – some cats said he could make a grown elder tremble like a kit with his mighty roar.

"I am glad he is safe," Tigerstar breathed. "I hope he is happier living with Barley – though I wish he could have told me himself."

"He was born into ThunderClan!" Tinyclaw exclaimed. "Doesn't that mean anything? Don't you think he has to stay here?"

Tigerstar purred, shaking his head. "Where a cat is born does not matter, Tinyclaw – you know better than most that what matters is where one's heart truly lies. If Ravenpaw was not happy with ThunderClan, then I hope he has found a place where he is truly happy. If he wishes to come back, our territory is always open to him."

"He didn't leave because he _wanted_ to, Tigerstar," Tinyclaw insisted. He _had_ to understand! "He couldn't possibly stay!"

"Oh?" Tigerstar breathed. "What's this, now?"

Tinyclaw swallowed.

"Well?"

Tinyclaw's mouth was dry as he said, "Ravenpaw knew something about Bluefur. Something bad. I think… I think she was planning on killing him… or hurting him greatly by turning the Clan against him."

Tigerstar's broad shoulders stiffened, and his tail twitched. His amber eyes burned as he demanded, "What secret is this, Tinyclaw? Enough games!"

Tinyclaw took a deep breath. _Be confident,_ he thought. As boldly as possible, he stated, "Ravenpaw saw Bluefur kill Redtail during the battle with RiverClan."

Tigerstar's eyes narrowed. "A warrior would never kill another of his own Clan," he growled. "It is against the warrior code – you have been with us long enough to know that." Tinyclaw flinched. _Why keep mentioning that I was a kittypet?_

"Bluefur reported that it was Swiftclaw, RiverClan's deputy, that killed Redtail," Tigerstar went on. "Are you certain Ravenpaw actually _saw_ Bluefur kill Redtail?"

"He said he did," Tinyclaw told him earnestly, urging him to believe.

Tigerstar's tail stirred the leaves. "You must know that by saying this, you are calling Redtail's honor into question as well," he growled, "for he must have been the cat responsible for Swiftclaw's death? One deputy would never kill another in battle, not unless it couldn't be avoided. Redtail was one of the most honorable warriors I have ever known." His eyes glowed with sorrow, and Tinyclaw couldn't help but flinch at the sight.

"I cannot account for Redtail's actions," Tinyclaw admitted. "All I know is that Ravenpaw truly believed what he said to me."

Tigerstar's shoulders fell, and his eyes turned sympathetic. "I know as well as any cat that Ravenpaw knew how to tell a story," he rumbled. "He was injured during that battle; don't you think that maybe he was just trying to make the story interesting by filling in the parts he'd missed?"

Before Tinyclaw could reply, a yowl interrupted them. Whitestorm's head pushed through the undergrowth, and he meowed, "We are waiting for you at the rise."

Tigerstar nodded. "We will be back in a moment," he assured the white warrior. Whitestorm dipped his head, and then turned back into the woods.

Tinyclaw watched Whitestorm go, and Tigerstar's words echoed in his ears. Yes, Ravenpaw _had_ had a vivid imagination – at Tinyclaw's first Gathering Ravenpaw had been recounting the story and there had been no mention of Bluefur.

Tigerstar stood, and Tinyclaw jumped. Tinyclaw asked, cautiously, "Are you going to bring Ravenpaw back into the Clan?"

"He is probably happier where he is," Tigerstar said, looking deep into Tinyclaw's eyes. "For now, I will let the Clan believe he is dead."

Tinyclaw's eyes widened – Tigerstar was going to lie to his Clan?

"It will be far easier for the Clan to accept that Ravenpaw died in battle rather than ran away," Tigerstar assured Tinyclaw. "It will be better for Ravenpaw, too."

"So Bluefur won't go looking for him?" Tinyclaw dared.

Tigerstar's amber eyes burned as his head whipped about to stare at Tinyclaw. "No!" his hissed with impatience. "Bluefur may have ambition, be she is no murderer. Ravenpaw will be better remembered as a dead hero than a live coward."

A call came through the woods – but it was Bluefur's voice this time. Tigerstar turned away from Tinyclaw and leaped into the undergrowth. Tinyclaw, bristling, followed. It was admittedly hard for his shorter legs to keep up with Tigerstar's lengthy stride.

His mind was whirling. He had told Tigerstar, but his reaction was nothing that Tinyclaw had expected. Tigerstar clearly did not think that Bluefur was capable of murdering any cat – and now Tinyclaw was beginning to wonder if Ravenpaw was lying and that Tinyclaw was wrong all along.

Tinyclaw halted beside Tigerstar as they caught up with the other warriors at the edge of the hollow. Fourtrees lay before them, the four great oaks with golden leaves rustling in the breeze. The Great Rock shone in the moonlight. Cats were milling about below, pelts highlighted by moonlight.

He could feel Bluefur's gaze on him, freezing his pelt like ice. He tried to ignore the feelings of doubt nagging at his bones. _She could just be interested in what I was saying, not suspecting that I was trying to out her as a murderer… she could just be a loyal deputy._

The cats in the Gathering party were shuffling their paws with anticipation. Tigerstar twitched his whiskers, saying nothing as he raised his tail. The ThunderClan cats spilled down the slope and into the Gathering.


	4. Chapter 2

**OK so it turns out that I have a metric ton of this story written. I suppose it won't hurt to update it a little more often until that changes.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

"_Where'd you get off to?" Graystripe_ hissed, just behind Tinyclaw.

Tinyclaw shifted on his paws. ThunderClan were streaming into the hollow, and eventually it left only Graystripe and Tinyclaw at the edge of the clearing. Moonlight shone down on Fourtrees, highlighting the pelts of the gathered cats.

"Doesn't matter," Tinyclaw insisted. He had promised not to get Graystripe involved, and he intended to keep it that way. Tinyclaw's head was troubled, confused in a whirl by Tigerstar. Graystripe didn't press him, thankfully, and the two loped down into the clearing.

Cats crowded around, huddling together to get through the chilly night. Tinyclaw blinked, his blue gaze sweeping across the cats.

"ShadowClan are here," Tinyclaw told Graystripe. He flicked his tail to a group of apprentices. "Look how much better they seem!"

Graystripe purred beside him. "Brokenstar left them half-starved. It's good they're getting up on their paws again."

Tinyclaw nodded in agreement. The ShadowClan warriors looked sleek and better-fed than they had underneath Brokenstar's rule. "Mind you," Tinyclaw chuckled, "we did most of the fighting for them!"

Graystripe purred, amused – but it did not last long. Whitestorm strode forward, the warrior closer to them than Tinyclaw had thought, and meowed, "ShadowClan did as much as we did to drive out Brokenstar. We should be honoring their determination to recover."

Tinyclaw flicked his tail in apology. Graystripe murmured something, and Whitestorm strode off. Guilt prickled at Tinyclaw's pelt.

Graystripe and Tinyclaw kept themselves close to the edge of the clearing, watching the cats mingle. Kit-soft apprentices were sitting in groups, listening raptly to older warriors telling battle stories. A group of senior warriors and elders were gathered together, trading old stories. The medicine cats were sitting in a bunch, and it looked like Yellowfang was receiving a warm welcome from Runningnose and Mudfur.

Grass crackled as a small group of cats approached Tinyclaw and Graystripe. Tinyclaw recognized the ShadowClan warrior, Wetfoot, leading another sleek-furred warrior and what appeared to be an apprentice. Tinyclaw mewed a greeting.

"Hello, Tinyclaw," Wetfoot meowed, settling down before the two new warriors. He flicked his tail to his dark, smoky, sleek-furred companion. "This is Blackclaw, a RiverClan warrior."

Tinyclaw and Graystripe dipped their heads in respect. Blackclaw didn't seem to care one way or another.

"And this," Wetfoot meowed, flicking his tail to the apprentice, "is my apprentice, Oakpaw."

"H-Hi," Oakpaw mumbled, trembling a little. Tinyclaw blinked at the small cat – realizing that he had seen him in the camp as a kit. _He must have just turned six moons, like Brightpaw._

"I hear Tigerstar made you both warriors after the battle," Wetfoot went on. "Congratulations!"

Blackclaw chuckled, "Must have been a cold vigil."

Graystripe puffed out his pelt in memory. "It was!" he agreed.

A flash of golden-brown caught his eye, and Tinyclaw blinked. A rippling pelt of dappled gold was weaving through the Clans – a she-cat with her head held high and powerful shoulders pushing aside any who were in her way.

"Who's that?" Tinyclaw asked.

"Leopardfur," Blackclaw meowed, "our new deputy."

Tinyclaw watched Leopardfur weave her way up to the Great Rock, settling herself just in its shadow. She regarded the Gathering with piercing yellow eyes, and Tinyclaw felt a pang of sorrow that he would never meet Swiftclaw, RiverClan's previous deputy.

He was saved from that awkward feeling by Tigerstar leaping onto the Great Rock. Crookedstar followed, along with skinny Nightpelt of ShadowClan. Tinyclaw tipped his head – had ShadowClan appointed Nightpelt to be their leader?

Tigerstar's call was like a roar, silencing the Clans. When all eyes were turned on him, Tigerstar meowed, "ThunderClan has brought with them our new medicine cat, Yellowfang."

Tinyclaw glanced at Yellowfang. She was shuffling on her paws, unused to all the attention. He gave her an encouraging smile, but Yellowfang didn't seem to notice – nor did the other Clans seem to wonder what had happened to Spottedleaf.

"We also bring two newly-named warriors – Tinyclaw and Graystripe," Tigerstar went on.

Tinyclaw held his head high, feeling the gazes of the Clans on him. He shivered at a surge of self-consciousness, and he lowered his head, hoping he hadn't looked too arrogant. He flicked his tail.

"We also have one new apprentice," Tigerstar finished. "Brightpaw is being mentored by Longtail."

Nightpelt pushed forward, brushing past Tigerstar and Crookedstar as the smaller tom tried fitting through the bigger, bulkier cats. When he was at the peak of the rock, he announced, "I, Nightpelt, have been appointed to lead ShadowClan. Our former leader, Brokenstar, had broken the warrior code many times over and we were forced to chase him out."

Tinyclaw shifted on his paws. _No mention of the fact that we helped you?_ He wondered. He glanced at Graystripe, and the gray tom seemed just as ruffled. Tinyclaw looked back up at Nightpelt, wondering if he was too proud to admit he needed the help of ThunderClan.

Nightpelt went on, "The spirits of our ancestors have spoken to Runningnose, and I have been chosen to be leader. I have not yet traveled to Mothermouth to receive my nine lives and name, but I will do so tomorrow night while the moon is still full. After my vigil, I shall be known as Nightstar."

"Where is Brokenstar now?" Frostfur, a ThunderClan queen, asked. Her white head poked up from a group of other queens.

"We can assume he left the forest, I think, with our other banished warriors," Nightpelt replied. "I think he knows it is wise not to return."

"I hope so," Frostfur murmured to her neighbor, an elderly RiverClan queen. The golden she-cat was nodding, and Tinyclaw recalled just how terrified poor Frostfur had been, what with Brokenstar having stolen her kits not a whole moon ago.

"Let's hope Brokenstar has left," Crookedstar growled. The light-colored tabby pushed his way forward, glancing at Nightpelt. "His greed for territory threatened us all."

It took a while for the yowls of agreement to die down. Crookedstar was patient. When the last of the Clans were quiet, he went on, turning his heavy head to look directly at Nightpelt. "When Brokenstar was leader, I allowed him to hunt in our territory. Now that ShadowClan has a new leader, this agreement cannot stand."

Tinyclaw's neck fur rose in alarm – Nightpelt was bristling!

Nightpelt raised his voice, eyes narrowed. "ShadowClan has the same needs it did under Brokenstar! We have many mouths to feed, Crookedstar – you made an agreement with the whole of ShadowClan!"

Crookedstar's hanging jaw curled into a snarl, and he turned on the Great Rock towards Nightpelt. Powerful muscles rippled beneath his tabby pelt – but before any move could be made, Tigerstar stepped forward, forcing himself between Nightpelt and Crookedstar.

"Enough!" he growled. "ShadowClan has suffered many losses recently. There are fewer mouths to feed than before, Nightpelt – surely you do not need RiverClan's fish?"

Crookedstar hissed, but Nightpelt was unflinching.

Tigerstar's voice grew more forceful. "You have driven out your leader and several of your strongest warriors," he growled. "Not only that, but Brokenstar went against the warrior code when he demanded RiverClan's territory."

Tinyclaw swallowed uneasily as silence reigned in the clearing. Tigerstar's amber gaze did not leave Nightpelt as he went on, "You do not have your nine lives yet, Nightpelt. Are you so confident that you can make these demands?"

Nightpelt looked away, growling angrily, at that.

Tigerstar had won. His voice softened as he went on, "ShadowClan has suffered much these past moons – ThunderClan has agreed to give you a moon of peace. I'm sure Crookedstar would not mind extending the same offer."

"So long as ShadowClan is not scented in our territory, Nightpelt can have all the peace he wants," Crookedstar growled back, eyes narrowed.

Tinyclaw breathed a sigh of relief. He knew what it was like to fight in a real battle now – with teeth bared and claws bloodied. He was even more in awe of Tigerstar for having the courage to step between Crookedstar and Nightpelt. Mews of relief broke through the tension, and it seemed like the Gathering was getting a cheery air again.

Nightpelt's ears pricked suddenly. "Of course you won't scent us, Crookedstar – ShadowClan does not need RiverClan fish… not when we all have the uplands to hunt in!"

Crookedstar's eyes brightened. "Of course!" he agreed. "With WindClan having abandoned it, it's free for all the Clans to hunt in! That means extra prey for all of us!"

Tigerstar's eyes flashed, and he drew up between them again. He growled, "No! WindClan _must_ return!"

Crookedstar looked at Tigerstar as if the darker tabby had blackbirds crawling out of his ears. "Why?" he wondered.

"With WindClan gone, it means more food for all our kits," Nightpelt agreed.

"The forest need four Clans," Tigerstar growled. "We have Fourtrees. Four seasons. There must always be four Clans in the forest. We must find WindClan and bring them home!"

ThunderClan yowled in agreement, backing up their leader – but Crookedstar shook his head and growled impatiently, "Your argument is weak, Tigerstar! Do we really need four seasons? Wouldn't you rather do without leaf-bare, and the cold and hunger it brings?"

Tigerstar narrowed his eyes. "StarClan gave us leaf-bare so that the world could rest and recover," he growled back. "So it could begin anew again, with more prey and lush trees! This forest, and the uplands, have supported four Clans for generations – it is not up to us to challenge StarClan."

Leopardfur spoke up, growling, "Why should we go hungry for the sake of a Clan that couldn't even defend themselves?"

"Tigerstar is right!" Bluefur snapped back, drawing herself up. Even heavy with kits, she was intimidating. "WindClan must return!"

Tigerstar turned to Crookedstar. "Crookedstar," he said, "RiverClan's hunting grounds are known for their richness – even in leaf-bare, fish flow in the rivers. Why do you need the extra prey?"

Crookedstar looked away, neck fur ruffled. Tinyclaw's ears pricked – why had Tigerstar's question ruffled the RiverClan cat's fur?

"Nightpelt," Tigerstar went on, his head turning to Nightpelt, "it was Brokenstar who drove WindClan from their home. This is why ThunderClan helped you chase him out."

Tinyclaw blinked at that – a gentle reminder of the debt Nightpelt owed ThunderClan.

The ShadowClan leader narrowed his eyes, sitting on the Great Rock in silence. Finally, tail-tip twitching, he growled, "Very well, Tigerstar. We will allow WindClan to return." Crookedstar swung his head away, his eyes nothing but slits.

"Two of us have agreed, Crookedstar," Tigerstar growled gently. "WindClan must be found and brought home. No Clan ought to hunt in their territory until then."

As if his words were a finality, the Gathering began to break up. Tigerstar leaped down from the Great Rock, pausing beside Bluefur to share a few words. Tinyclaw's claws worked the ground as Wetfoot, Oakpaw, and Blackclaw padded off to join their respective Clans.

"Well, that was tense," Tinyclaw sighed.

Graystripe said nothing.

Tinyclaw glanced at Graystripe, following his friend's eyes. They were planted on a silver tabby she-cat, and Tinyclaw rolled his eyes. He nudged Graystripe out of his trance.

"Huh? Wha?" Graystripe mumbled.

"Were you paying attention to any of that?" Tinyclaw asked.

"Yes - of course!" Graystripe insisted, clearly flustered. Tinyclaw's whiskers twitched. Graystripe stood up and meowed, "Come on; Tigerstar's waiting."

Tinyclaw nodded, grateful that his friend had his attention in the right place. He followed after Graystripe, pausing only to glanced back. RiverClan – and the silver tabby – were all gathered in a group in the clearing… and so was ShadowClan. Their leaders had not yet left the Great Rock.

Looking up, Tinyclaw felt a shiver run down his spine. Crookedstar and Nightpelt were atop the Great Rock, grumbling to one another – words Tinyclaw could not hear, but he could tell by the way that they glared at Tigerstar and ThunderClan that it wasn't good.

_You were just enemies!_ Tinyclaw thought despairingly. _After all we've done for you… how can you suddenly turn into their allies?_


	5. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_The noise of the Gathering party's_ swift return woke up most of the camp. The sleepy figures emerged from their dens as Tigerstar thrust his way forward through the camp, and the questions began flying through the air.

"What's new?" Halftail, an elder, asked with a tired voice.

"Were ShadowClan there?" wondered Willowpelt, a senior warrior-queen and Graystripe's mother.

"Yes, they were," Tigerstar replied. He strode past Willowpelt and leaped onto the Highrock – there was no need for summons, as most of the cats were already gathered in the Highrock's shadow beneath the moonlight. Bluefur jumped up the Highrock to stand beside ThunderClan's leader, moonlight turning her pelt silver.

Tigerstar's amber gaze observed his Clan as the last few wakened cats gathered below. "There was much tension between the Clans this Gathering," he announced. "We must all be wary of a possible new alliance between Nightpelt and Crookedstar."

"Nightpelt?" croaked One-eye. For once, her hearing seemed to be just fine. Beside her, Snowkit shifted awkwardly on his paws, clearly aware of the tension in the Clan.

"He has been named ShadowClan's new leader," Tigerstar explained.

"His name, though – he hasn't been accepted by StarClan yet?" One-eye wondered.

"He says he plans to make the journey tomorrow night," Bluefur replied.

One-eye bristled. "No cat can claim leadership and make an announcement at a Gathering without StarClan's blessing!" she hissed.

"He has the support of ShadowClan," Oakheart told the elder. The bracken-colored tom raised his head within the crowd. "It's enough to see that we don't ignore what he said tonight."

One-eye gave a disgruntled sniff. Tigerstar raised his voice and meowed, "At the Gathering, I suggested that we find WindClan and bring them home… but Crookedstar and Nightpelt do not seem eager to have that happen."

Graystripe snorted in disbelief. Loudly, he meowed, "Surely they won't join forces? Not after Brokenstar tried taking RiverClan territory!"

Tinyclaw nudged his friend. He announced to the Clan, "I saw the looks they were swapping at the end of the Gatheirng – they want to get their paws on WindClan territory!"

"Why?" Sandpaw wondered. The pretty she-cat was sitting beside her mentor, Whitestorm.

Whitestorm shook his great white head. "I suspect ShadowClan might not be as weak as we thought – and Nightpelt seems more ambitious than we could have predicted."

"The uplands are a long way to go for a few windblown rabbits," Willowpelt growled, her pale neck fur bristling. "Why would RiverClan bother? They've always grown fat on the fish from the river."

Dappletail raised her head. The once-lovely queen rasped, "At the Gathering some of the RiverClan elders were complaining about Twolegs messing about in their river. They said that it's been taken over."

Frostfur was nodding in agreement. She meowed, "They said that the Twolegs have been living in shelters beside the river, disturbing the fish. The RiverClan cats watch with empty bellies as the Twolegs scare off all their prey!"

Tigerstar looked thoughtfully down at his Clan. "For now," he rumbled, "we must do nothing to further aggravate ShadowClan or RiverClan and bring them closer together. Go; rest now. Runningwind and Dustpaw shall take the dawn patrol."

Dying leaves scattered across the clearing with a cold breeze. The Clan remained beneath the Highrock a moment longer, chatting quietly with flicking tails before heading off to their dens. Tinyclaw followed, curling up in his nest and grateful for the shelter from the cold wind.

For the second night in a row, Tinyclaw's dreams were invaded. In the darkness he stood, hardly able to separate himself from the world around him. The stench of the Thunderpath flooded his nostrils and Tinyclaw felt himself pushed and pulled, buffeted by stinking winds. Through the din and rush of noises in his ears, Tinyclaw heard the pitiful cry of a young cat. An unfamiliar scent drifted on the wind, barely noticeable beyond the stench of Thunderpath.

Tinyclaw woke with a start, claws gripping the moss of his nest – for a moment, he wondered if the cry in his dream had woken him. All around him were the soft, sleepy snores of warriors. The noise of his dream rang in his ears, and Tinyclaw glanced around the den – everyone seemed to be sleeping peacefully except Bluefur, who was having trouble fitting into her nest beside Oakheart.

Too wary to go back to sleep, Tinyclaw quietly pushed his way out of the den and into the clearing. He sat just outside the den, tail curled around his paws.

The sky was full of stars still, with dawn far off. Tinyclaw realized he must not have slept long. The moon was setting, though, traveling down the sky towards the trees. The camp seemed peaceful and serene, nowhere near the chaos of his dreams.

Tinyclaw heard pawsteps sounding along the edge of the ravine – with a scent of the air, he realized it was just Longtail and Darkstripe, guarding the camp.

He sighed. Tinyclaw turned back into the den, pushing his way into his nest beside Graystripe. His friend seemed to be having sweeter dreams, his fur unruffled and tail still. Tinyclaw settled beside him, and swore he heard Graystripe purring. Tinyclaw closed his eyes again and was swept back into sleep.

* * *

><p>It was Graystripe's nose that woke him, prodding him in the side. "Leave me alone!" Tinyclaw grumbled, rolling away.<p>

"Wake up!" Graystripe grumbled.

"Why?" Tinyclaw complained. "We don't have patrol."

"Tigerstar wants to see us in his den, now!" Graystripe insisted.

Tinyclaw's ears pricked, and the fuzziness of sleep left him at the sound of Graystripe's words. He scrambled to his paws and followed Graystripe out of the den and through the camp. Sunshine was drifting down onto the world, its warmth nowhere near what it had been in the season prior. With a glance, Tinyclaw spotted fringes of frost on the leaves around the camp.

They reached Tigerstar's den and announced their arrival with hushed mews.

"Enter!" replied Bluefur's voice. Tinyclaw shivered with alarm – had Tigerstar told Bluefur of Tinyclaw's suspicions? Graystripe pushed his way unflinchingly into the den, and Tinyclaw followed uneasily.

Tigerstar was sitting upright in his nest, his eyes bright. Bluefur was settled beside him, heavy on her paws on the sandy floor. Oakheart was on Tigerstar's other side, casually drawing a paw over his ear. Tinyclaw cast his attention to Tigerstar, trying to read his leader's expression – he found nothing.

The massive tabby tom began at once: "Tinyclaw, Graystripe – I have a mission for you!"

"A mission?" Tinyclaw repeated. Relief melted away his unease like sunshine on snow.

"I want you to go with Oakheart to find WindClan and bring them back to their territory," Tigerstar announced.

Tinyclaw and Graystripe glanced at one another. Excitement burned in Graystripe's eyes, and Tinyclaw couldn't help but feel a little excited himself.

"Before you get too excited," Bluefur rumbled, "bear in mind that this might be dangerous. We don't know where WindClan has gone, and all that remains in their camp is their scent – which you'll most likely have to follow into hostile territory."

"But you have been through the uplands before," Tigerstar went on, "on your journey to the Moonstone. You have smelled their scent and know it – and the Twoleg territory beyond will be familiar as well."

"Oakheart knows these areas as well," Bluefur went on, "and he has been on scouting missions into WindClan territory when we were looking for them. Oakheart knows where their camp is, and where to possibly start looking."

Oakheart flattened an ear. "You flatter me," he purred.

Bluefur did not react to his praise.

"Is it just the three of us?" Tinyclaw asked.

Tigerstar nodded. "I had initially wanted it to be just the two of you, but Bluefur insisted on a senior warrior going. Many prey-poor moons lie ahead, and the camp needs all its paws here. I can spare the three of you, however, for this task."

"Oakheart will help you prepare for your journey," Bluefur meowed. Her icy gaze made Tinyclaw's paws prickle with unease. Was Tinyclaw really the only cat who was suspicious of her?

"We must leave as soon as possible," Oakheart added.

"Good luck," purred Tigerstar.

Oakheart nodded to his leader, and then touched noses with Bluefur in farwell. He murmured something to her, and Bluefur returned the words with a worried gaze. Oakheart flicked his tail against her cheek before padding out of the den. Tinyclaw and Graystripe rose to follow him.

"So, do you two remember how to get to WindClan territory?" Oakheart asked. He was leading them across the camp, towards the fern-shaded glen of the medicine cat's den.

"Of course!" Graystripe insisted. "We were there only a few -"

"A few _moons_ ago," Tinyclaw interrupted, cutting Graystripe off with an icy look. _You almost gave it away, furball!_ The Clan still didn't know that Ravenpaw was alive, and Tinyclaw had promised to keep it that way.

"Do you recall WindClan's scent?" Oakheart asked, pushing through the ferns. He didn't seem to noticed Graystripe's stumble. He glanced back at them, his eyes interested in their answer.

Both warriors nodded.

They paused in the medicine cat's den. Tinyclaw was thinking of the route they had taken through the prickly gorse and soft peat of the moorland, in the driving rain, to send Ravenpaw on his way. The thought of searching for the lost Clan gave his thoughts an edge of discovery and mystique.

"Yellowfang has prepared traveling herbs for us," Oakheart meowed.

Tinyclaw blinked in the medicine cat's den – a lovely little glade sectioned off from the rest of the camp by ferns and lichen. A large rock was in the middle of the glen, split down the middle. Tinyclaw could spot Yellowfang's bushy tail flitting about inside the rock.

"Do you have our herbs, Yellowfang?" Oakheart asked.

"I've got them!" she called from within the rock. "Hold your squirrels, will you?"

Yellowfang appeared a moment later, a bundle of leaves packed into her broad, flattened muzzle. Her pelt seemed just as unkempt as it had when Tinyclaw first met the old she-cat, deep in the woods. She had been a trespasser then, an exile from ShadowClan, but with Spottedleaf's untimely death and the unseating of Brokenstar she became ThunderClan's new medicine cat.

The old gray she-cat laid down the herbs before the group and began spreading them out with deft paws. "If you're heading into the uplands," she rasped, "be on the lookout for Nightpelt. He's making his way to Moonstone tonight, remember!"

"Of course!" Graystripe insisted. "I'd hate to run into him."

"We'll be fine," Oakheart assured her. He polished off his herbs with practiced ease and settled down to wait for Tinyclaw and Graystripe to eat the bitter leaves.

Graystripe was still chewing on his, a sour look on his face, as Tinyclaw finished his herbs. Already he could feel them working, burning away his hunger and filling him with strength.

"Your first warrior mission!" Yellowfang purred, her eyes gleaming. "How exciting!"

"Did you ever have any exciting missions?" Tinyclaw wondered. In the back of his mind he wished he could have a drink to wash out the taste of the herbs – but he was curious. Yellowfang had been a warrior before becoming a medicine cat.

Yellowfang shrugged. "Here and there," she rasped. "But you two ought to get going – don't keep old Oakheart waiting!"

"I am not _that_ old!" Oakheart hissed, his neck fur bristling.

Yellowfang twitched her whiskers.

Graystripe swallowed the last of his herbs with a loud burp of complaint. "Ugh!" he groaned. "So gross!"

"Come on, you slow slugs," Oakheart insisted. "We need to get going."

Graystripe and Tinyclaw heaved themselves to their paws. Graystripe followed Oakheart to the entrance of the den, and Tinyclaw looked back at Yellowfang. Memories of his days as an apprentice surged through his mind, and he purred, "Good bye."

Yellowfang rolled her eyes. "Go," she rasped.

Tinyclaw flicked his tail at her attitude.

Yellowfang came forward and touched her nose to his ear and sighed, "Good luck."


	6. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

_Oakheart led the way out of_ camp. Before the warriors reached the thorn tunnel, however, they ran into Whitestorm, who was leading Runningwind and Sandpaw out for the dawn patrol.

"On your way then, are you?" Whitestorm mewed, admiration in his eyes. He raised his tail to tell Sandpaw and Runningwind to stay still a moment.

Oakheart dipped his head. "Yes," he replied.

"Good luck to you, then," Runningwind offered.

"Where are they going?" Sandpaw wondered, head tipped. Her pale eyes flashed over the group, landing lastly on Tinyclaw. The way those eyes burned into his pelt made Tinyclaw stiffen. Was she upset at him for something?

Runningwind leaned down and whispered into her ear. Tinyclaw flicked his own ear – was their trip not a secret to the warriors in the camp? He supposed that Tigerstar would have wanted the other warriors to know, lest they suspect the group to have abandoned their Clan.

Sandpaw's expression changed, and her eyes flashed. Curiosity gleamed from them now, and Tinyclaw even caught a hint of worry.

"We need to be off," Oakheart decided. He raised his tail to Tinyclaw and Graystripe. "Come on – we're wasting daylight."

Tinyclaw and Graystripe nodded. Tinyclaw waved a good-bye with his tail, wishing that he could tell Sandpaw that he would be fine and that he would come back – but she was so proud she would only see it as Tinyclaw thinking her weak. They pushed through the thorn tunnel and the feel of Sandpaw's eyes was replaced by sunshine.

Oakheart led the way as they scrambled up the ravine. Tinyclaw's muscles bunched, aching to run free – he had done nothing but patrol after patrol, and this mission would give him the chance to flex his bored limbs.

The three shared few words as they loped on the familiar trails to Fourtrees. Tinyclaw could smell the Gathering patrol's scent fading away in the leaf-fall sunshine as they walked. Leaves crackled beneath their paws, and every breeze sent a flurry of new leaves to the ground.

Nothing stopped them as they reached the slope of Fourtrees. Oakheart led them across with confident paws, his stride paced to save his energy. Tinyclaw and Graystripe did their best to copy the older warrior as they padded up the hill and into the moorland.

Great blasts of winds swept across the uplands, cold and rough. They flattened the grass into an unbroken sweep of gray-green plain, with only the occasional rock or patch of heather to break up the monotony. There were no trees from here on out, and already Tinyclaw's pelt was prickling with discomfort.

"Keep an eye out," Oakheart called over the breeze. "In this wind, it will be hard to detect warriors from the enemy Clans."

"Is it always this windy up here?" Graystripe wondered.

"Not always," Oakheart assured him. "We feel it a lot harder than most cats do, though, since there aren't any trees here to break the wind like there are in the forest. Tinyclaw! What do you smell?"

Tinyclaw jumped at the sound of his name. He had been thinking of the rain-blasted journey here not long ago, guiding Ravenpaw through the windblown grass and to safety. Would they see him on this mission? What would they do if they did? Oakheart believed him to be dead, as did the rest of the Clan.

He opened his jaws and took in a deep breath of cold air. When he smelled nothing, he replied, "Nothing, Oakheart."

Oakheart nodded and led the way. Tinyclaw flicked his tail – Oakheart trusted his judgment so fully? It was sometimes strange knowing that Tinyclaw was now a warrior, and had the respect that being a warrior brought. Tinyclaw and Graystripe followed, keeping close to one another.

They walked along a well-trodden trail rimmed with heather. The sweet smell helped make the journey better, even if the wind was still blasting the ThunderClan cats' pelts flat.

Suddenly, Oakheart stopped in his tracks. He raised his tail – a warning.

Tinyclaw and Graystripe stopped, and Tinyclaw opened his jaws. Over the smell of heather he detected the fishy tang of RiverClan.

"Quiet," Oakheart hissed. The older warrior raised his head just above the barrier of heather, signaling with his tail that Tinyclaw and Graystripe ought to do the same.

The RiverClan warriors were hunting, from what Tinyclaw could make out. Four warriors raced after a rabbit across the slopes, but they were lagging too far behind. The rabbit disappeared into the safety of their warren, and the RiverClan warriors stopped the chase, lashing their tails in frustration.

"They're not very good rabbit hunters," Graystripe remarked quietly.

"RiverClan are more used to fish," Oakheart pointed out. "Fish move fast, but RiverClan warriors don't need to run to catch them."

Tinyclaw twitched his whiskers in amusement, but his eyes widened with horror as the RiverClan warriors – led by the smoky warrior Blackclaw – began heading their way.

"Down!" Tinyclaw hissed.

The three warriors crouched as low as they could manage, pressing into the heather. Tinyclaw could hear the pawsteps and heavy breathing of the tired RiverClan warriors as they approached the patch of heather.

"Wait!" called one of the warriors, a she-cat by the sound of her. Tinyclaw's fur stood on end.

"What, Silverstream?" rasped Blackclaw.

"I smell badger," Silverstream replied. Her voice was tight. "We oughtn't stray too close."

_Badger?_ Tinyclaw thought. He tested the air and recoiled – the stench of badger was indeed nearby, being blown towards the RiverClan warriors as the wind changed just slightly. Its smell was enough to mask the ThunderClan cats crouching behind the heather.

"Just our luck!" complained an unfamiliar warrior's voice. "No rabbits and now _badgers."_

"It's a little stale, Brambleclaw," Blackclaw assured him, "but Silverstream's right – we ought to get out of here."

Tinyclaw peered through the gaps in the heather, watching the bulky shapes of the RiverClan patrol move away. A massive dark brown tabby was lashing his tail, grumbling irritably, while was a tortoiseshell she-cat was trying to calm him down. From their builds, they looked like kin. The silver tabby – no doubt Silverstream – was sighing, shaking her head as she padded after Blackclaw.

The patrol didn't dare move until the RiverClan cats were gone from their sight. Oakheart lifted his head first, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Let's keep moving," Oakheart decided. "We have to find the camp."

"Do you know where it is?" Tinyclaw asked.

Oakheart nodded. "I've been there once – I hope my memory's good," he answered.

The three cats pulled themselves out of the heather and increased their pace across the moorland. Oakheart led the way through the grass, pausing now and again to sniff here and there. All Tinyclaw could smell was cold wind blasting up his nose – but Oakheart seemed to know where he was going.

Soon enough the ground sloped upward. A patch of tough grass grew along this ridge, bushes sheltering a hollow in the hill with their branches. It looked as if some ancient creature had scooped up the peaty earth with its paw, creating this dry, sheltered hollow in the uplands. Rocks were strewn here and there, and the faint, rabbit smell of WindClan lingered here.

"There it is!" Oakheart mewed triumphantly. "This is WindClan's camp."

"The scent is really stale," Graystripe complained. "How are we supposed to find a fresh start in here?"

"We'll have to go down and root it out," Oakheart assured him. Without another word, the bracken-colored tom led the way through the thick tangles of gorse. Tinyclaw and Graystripe followed.

The WindClan camp was more open than the ThunderClan camp, though it was smaller. Tinyclaw picked up the scents of WindClan cats of all kinds – old, young, sick, well – and could see feathers and fur strewn across the ground. Dried blood spotted the earth here and there, and what remained of the fresh-kill pile was nothing but crow-food.

Rocks jutted from parts of the hill, creating sheltered spots that Tinyclaw could envision being dens, or simply good spots to eat. Kit-scent told him that a massive clump of gorse and rock was the nursery, while the smell of mouse-bile alerted him to the elder's den inside an old badger set.

"This place is so well-protected," Tinyclaw meowed, looking at the dens. The thick gorse on the hilltop made the camp seem like it was nothing more than a piece of moorland scenery. "It's so well concealed – how did Brokenstar manage driving them out?"

"Through deceit, I imagine," Oakheart grunted, sniffing at the ground.

"He probably came at night," Graystripe added. "It would probably be the only time when WindClan wasn't capable of scenting them."

Oakheart raised his tail. "I've got something!" he called.

Tinyclaw and Graystripe crossed the camp – not a long distance – and pressed their noses against the ground where Oakheart was standing. The scent was much fresher here – a great congregation of cats had gathered in this spot, and the trail led through a tangle of gorse and out of the camp.

"This must be where they gathered to leave," Graystripe mewed.

Oakheart nodded. "We follow this," he decided. "It's our best lead."

The three warriors were in agreement.

"Keep a lookout for dogs and Twolegs," Oakheart added. "I get the feeling this scent might take us close to the Twoleg farm."

Tinyclaw nodded – their journey would be cut short if one of them was injured by a dog or caught by a Twoleg.

Oakheart led the way out of the camp, squeezing through the hole in the gorse with a grunt. Graystripe had a tough time of it, too, leaving a hunk of fur behind on a thorn. Tinyclaw had the easiest go at it, slipping through with only a few minor scrapes.

_WindClan must be as small as me!_ Tinyclaw thought, pushing through to the other side. The winds of the moorland blasted against his pelt, and Tinyclaw was almost swept off his paws at the sudden gust. The camp was well-protected from the howling winds.

Across the way, over the gray sea of the Thunderpath, Tinyclaw could see Highstones rising up into rocky spires. The sun was beginning to set behind them, turning the rocky slopes orange as they trekked onward.

"Do you think Nightpelt is there yet?" Tinyclaw wondered.

"I hope we don't get close enough to find out," Graystripe admitted. "I don't want to have to deal with him!"

"Neither do I!" Oakheart called. "Let's keep moving."

Oakheart charged ahead, heading for the Twoleg farm. Tinyclaw couldn't help but slow his pace a little, so that he and Graystripe walked side by side. They were both looking at the farm, memories flashing before their eyes of the rat-filled ditches and their rain-soaked friend as he headed off into the unknown.

"Do you think he made it?" Graystripe whispered.

"I hope so," Tinyclaw replied quietly.

"What are we going to do if we _do_ find him, though," Graystripe hissed. "Oakheart doesn't know that Ravenpaw is -"

"Hey!" called Oakheart, interrupting Graystripe. The tabby tom had swung his head around. "Let's get moving, you two – I want to find a safe place to settle before it gets dark."

"Of course!" Tinyclaw replied.

Graystripe's hackles bristled with embarrassment, but Oakheart didn't give any indication that he'd heard their conversation. The two warriors caught up to Oakheart as they padded towards the Twoleg farm, following the scent trail carefully.

"They weren't headed to Highstones," Oakheart pointed out. "This trail leads away."

They followed the trail to a wide grassy plain. It wasn't quite moorland, but it was close enough – and the trail led to a sheltered copse where the grass had been trampled and moss had been scraped together into nests. Sun-bleached bones of prey lay here and there.

"They must have tried to settle here," Graystripe decided. "Their scent is everywhere – stale, but everywhere."

"What made them leave?" Tinyclaw wondered.

They followed the freshest trail around the Twoleg farm and back towards Highstones. Tinyclaw's pelt prickled – so they did go near Highstones after all. But the thought of running into Nightpelt wasn't the only thing making Tinyclaw's fur stand on end – they were passing just before Barley's barn, where Ravenpaw was supposedly staying.

It was there, in the distance – the old structure leaning heavily on old wood. A tumbledown half-barn lay nearby. From here, though, Tinyclaw couldn't see or scent his old friend.

"Tinyclaw, hurry up!" Oakheart called.

Tinyclaw flinched. He didn't want Oakheart to start asking questions. He pressed on, thoughts of Ravenpaw nagging at his mind. _Did he make it? Is he safe? Is he happy?_

Oakheart led the group down the slope and towards the Thunderpath. Highstones lay beyond, glowing in the setting sun, and Tinyclaw opened his jaws to see if Nightpelt's scent was near – he could smell nothing but the acrid tang of the Thunderpath.

"What if the trail takes us to Highstones?" called Graystripe. "Should we keep going?"

"I certainly don't want to run into Nightpelt," Oakheart admitted. He was leading them away from the Thunderpath, but Tinyclaw could still smell the stench. The temperature was plummeting, and frost was riming the grass as the sky turned night-dark. "We need to get past the nest before it gets too late – dogs."

That was all Tinyclaw needed Oakheart to say. The Twolegs who lived here kept dogs, and according to Barley they were unleashed at night. The group did not want to get tangled up with dogs.

Oakheart led them along the grassy track, passing Barley's barn, and heading further, out of any territory that Tinyclaw had ever known. Even Oakheart's confidence seemed to waver here – he did not know this area at all, but he followed the scent assuredly.

"He made it," Graystripe mewed suddenly, into Tinyclaw's ear. "He caught an adder, remember?"

Tinyclaw nodded in gratitude towards his friend, remembering Ravenpaw's mission to Snakerocks. He had been meant to catch prey, but the skinny tom had brought back an adder instead – quite the feat for such a timid apprentice.

Fear-scent tinged the WindClan trail as they neared another Thunderpath. This one crossed the Thunderpath that they had been following, heading off into the sunset. The group stopped at the edge of this Thunderpath. A few monsters rumbled in the distance, and on the other side was a row of leafy hedge.

"The scent goes over," Oakheart told them.

"Did WindClan cross Thunderpaths often?" Tinyclaw wondered. "I smell fear – did they not know the Thunderpath was just outside their territory?"

"WindClan's territory is pretty large and barren," Oakheart told Tinyclaw and Graystripe. "When they patrolled, they kept it tight and against borders that they shared with other Clans. At least, that's what I've noticed."

"So most of them must not have even known what a Thunderpath was!" Graystripe breathed. "Wow."

"We cross regardless," Oakheart meowed. "Wait for an opening and run. We meet on the other side of the hedge."

The monsters roared past, heading for the sunset. Another came, heading for the sunrise. The Thunderpath fell silent, and the ThunderClan warriors crossed quickly. When they were on the other side, they pushed through the hedge as another monster roared past, stirring up the air and leaves.

Tinyclaw pushed through the hedge and panted against the rough ground. The smells were so unfamiliar, and the nasty smell of the Thunderpath wasn't making things better. The warriors collected themselves and shook out their bristling fur.

"Where's the scent?" Oakheart asked, jaws open. "All I can smell is Thunderpath."

"Me, too," Graystripe admitted.

"Check the hedge!" Oakheart ordered. "Quick! Both sides!"

Tinyclaw's fur went cold. He scrambled to his paws and pushed through the hedge, sniffing every leaf and blade of oily grass until his head felt light with Thunderpath-stench.

Did they really come all this way just to lose the scent here?


	7. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_Tinyclaw could hear the blood pounding_ in his ears. The Thunderpath was silent for the moment, and he padded up to its edge. He sniffed along the hedge for several paces, bristling with worry.

_Come on! Give me something!_ He thought. _We can't just lose the scent here._

The air was thick with the smell of the Thunderpath, though, and Tinyclaw lashed his tail in frustration.

"Smell anything?" Oakheart called over the hedge.

"Not yet," Tinyclaw called back.

"No luck here either – but we need to keep looking!" Graystripe added.

Tinyclaw nodded to himself in agreement – the others couldn't see him as they were on the other side of the hedge. Tinyclaw kept his pawsteps careful, wary of the stinky Thunderpath, and kept trying to pick up the WindClan scent.

A monster tore past, throwing up a whirlwind of air right into Tinyclaw's scent glands. He gagged at the toxic smell, but coughed in shock – the monster had brought up the WindClan scent! Quickly he located its source – a patch of leaves against the hedge. It was stale, but it was there.

"I found it!" Tinyclaw called.

"Where does it go?" Oakheart wondered.

Tinyclaw followed the scent as he pushed through the hedge and out onto the other side. Before them stretched a large, open, barren field of grass.

"Somewhere over there, I imagine," Tinyclaw offered, pointing with his nose.

Graystripe stood next to him, stiff. "Has any Clan cat ever been this far out before?" he wondered.

"Only WindClan, I wager," Oakheart replied. "Lead the way, Tinyclaw."

Tinyclaw felt his pelt prickle at the honor. The scent was rather stale, but fragments of it lingered here and there along the field.

"Look!" Graystripe mewed. "Look up!"

Tinyclaw obeyed and his jaws opened in shock. Rising up on giant stone legs was a great wide Thunderpath, lit up by small suns. Another passed beneath it, and another lay on the ground. Tinyclaw shivered as he saw the lights of the monsters whizzing by on the structures.

_What in StarClan's name is _that? Tinyclaw thought. _I don't want to get anywhere near that._

"Focus," Oakheart meowed. "Let's get the scent and keep going."

Tinyclaw swallowed, his mouth dry, and nodded. He opened his jaws, filtering away the stench of the Thunderpath. He followed the faint trail for a few more pawsteps, until he reached a clump of thistles. He looked down at the plant, shocked, as the scent became as fresh as any ThunderClan marker. The pungent, rabbity, scent made him sneeze.

"There's a marker here!" Tinyclaw exclaimed.

"And one here, too!" Graystripe added, flicking his tail towards a nearby boulder.

"They must have settled near here," Oakheart decided.

Excitement flashed in Tinyclaw's and Graystripe's eyes. Then, Tinyclaw asked, flicking his tail towards the towering Thunderpaths, "Why settle in a place like this, though?"

"I don't think even Brokenstar would have followed them here," Oakheart grunted.

Graystripe led the way towards the Thunderpath that touched the ground, but Tinyclaw didn't move, unsettled.

"What?" Oakheart wondered, turning his head.

"I just think that maybe if WindClan came all the way out here," Tinyclaw explained, "they probably don't want to be found. If we come upon them at night like this they might attack us."

Oakheart and Graystripe exchanged a glance. The tiredness was in Graystripe's eyes, and Oakheart blinked in agreement, his shoulders sagging.

"OK," he decided. "We rest here for tonight. Let's find someplace sheltered."

Graystripe looked about, and then flicked his tail towards a dip in the ground. It ran along the Thunderpath, like a ditch, but at one end was a large cylinder that was smooth and lined with stone. "How about there?" the gray tom suggested.

Tinyclaw flicked his ear. "There?" he wondered.

"Can you find a better place?" Graystripe asked jokingly.

Tinyclaw shook his head. This area was far too open, and it looked like the tunnel was the only sheltered spot. Oakheart seemed to agree, and he began leading the way towards the tunnel.

The group paused at the edge of the slope, sniffing for rats. When they found none, they stepped cautiously into the tunnel. The stone was soft and smooth and cold against Tinyclaw's paws.

"I feel air," Tinyclaw meowed, feeling a stirring in his whiskers. "It must come up on the other side."

"It's empty," Oakheart grunted. "It will do."

They padded into the tunnel until it felt level enough to sleep on. Tinyclaw's teeth rattled as the tunnel shook and vibrated through his body, and he shivered.

"That Thunderpath is _above_ us!" Graystripe hissed. He seemed to regret choosing this place now. "We won't get a lick of sleep with that racket."

"Oh hush, you," Oakheart sighed, flicking his tail. The older cat was already settled in a curve with his head on his paws. "Monsters don't pass by so much at night. We need our rest, so just pretend you're in your nest at home, with a thunderstorm over your head."

Eyes stinging with tiredness, Tinyclaw yawned in agreement. He circled, fluffing out his pelt against the draft, and settled near Oakheart. Graystripe grumbled as he pressed against his friend, and once he was settled Tinyclaw could hear him describing his nest back home to himself. Tinyclaw twitched his whiskers and closed his eyes, imagining the soft leaves and moss of home.

* * *

><p>Sleep had come sometime during the night, when Tinyclaw had least expected it. He woke, stiff and cold, to find gray dawn light filtering into the tunnel. Tinyclaw had been the first to wake, so he nudged Oakheart and Graystripe.<p>

"Morning already?" groaned Oakheart.

"Yeah," Tinyclaw replied sympathetically.

The other two got themselves to their paws. Tinyclaw gave his chest fur a few quick licks, shivering at the taste of his pelt. It felt like licking the gritty Thunderpath. Graystripe and Oakheart seemed similarly displeased with the taste of their own pelts, so the wash was cut short.

"Where to?" Oakheart asked.

Tinyclaw and Graystripe glanced at one another in surprise. Oakheart wasn't going to call the shots?

"This is as much your mission as mine," Oakheart purred with amusement. "We work together, remember? So which way?"

"I think we ought to head that way," Tinyclaw offered, flicking his tail towards the dark end of the tunnel. "If this tunnel comes out on the other side of the Thunderpath we're under, it'll be safer than trying to cross it up above… and it might bring us closer to where WindClan have settled."

Oakheart glanced at Graystripe, but the gray warrior offered no objections. Oakheart nodded at Tinyclaw then, and said, "Lead the way."

Tinyclaw pushed ahead past Oakheart and led the way through the dark, damp tunnel. His whiskers twitched, and he was suddenly reminded of the tunnel into the Moonstone cavern – where the walls pressed so tight against him he felt like he was being suffocated. Tinyclaw's paws trembled – this cavern was not the same – it was far wider – but he couldn't help but feel a prickle of dread down his spine. He picked up the pace.

Soon enough they broke through the surface, out into another grassy field like the last. Dawn was turning the sky and land orange, and Tinyclaw took a deep breath of the acrid air. He was glad to be out of the tunnel and hopeful that Oakheart and Graystripe hadn't noticed his abrupt change of pace.

As the others were getting themselves out of the tunnel, Tinyclaw took a moment to take in their surroundings. This field was enclosed on two sides by Thunderpaths, while another arched high overhead on stone legs. A fire blazed in the middle of the field, with a few Twolegs shuffling and rolling about it in sleep. The fire was small, sputtering, with barely any life left to it.

In a flash, Tinyclaw recalled his dreams, and the words Spottedleaf spoke to him: "The smallest cat will save the Clan."

Tinyclaw shivered. Did she mean that ThunderClan's fate was tied with WindClan's? Or was it something more?

Something flitted in front of the fire – Tinyclaw focused his vision and spotted the fleeting shapes of cats. They were small, lean, and skinny. Tinyclaw blinked in shock – what cat would get so close to fire?

_Could it be WindClan?_ Tinyclaw wondered.

"Who are they?" Graystripe wondered cautiously. His fur was raised as he watched the cats by the fire.

"WindClan, maybe?" Oakheart suggested.

"We've got to find Tallstar," Tinyclaw pointed out.

Oakheart eyed him. "You think they _are_ WindClan?"

Tinyclaw nodded.

Graystripe's eyes grew round with excitement. "Then we've found them!" he exclaimed.

"Quiet!" Oakheart hissed. Tinyclaw looked back at the shadowy cats by the fire – they were still there, lingering by the flames. "We don't want to startle them."

_And finding them is only half the mission,_ Tinyclaw thought to himself. _We still need to bring them home in one piece._

Suddenly, one of the Twolegs sat up with a jolt. Tinyclaw flinched as it began shouting at the cats near the fire. The noise it made roused the other Twolegs, and suddenly all of the great, hulking beasts were up and shouting at the cats.

Startled, the cats scattered.

"After them!" Oakheart hissed. "Don't let them out of your sight!"

Caution tossed aside, the three cats sprang into action. Limbs pumping they followed after the ragged group of cats. Tinyclaw's instincts were screaming at him to stay away from the fire – no matter how small it was, it could still kill – but he kept moving.

One of the Twolegs rose to its feet suddenly, and Tinyclaw skidded to a stop as it blocked his path. Dust sprayed all around Tinyclaw as the Twoleg reached down with claw-like hands to grasp Tinyclaw – an interaction that he had liked as a kittypet, but he was a warrior now and these Twolegs were no housefolk.

Oakheart let out a screech and claws flashed. The bracken-colored tom sliced at the standing Twoleg's ankle, causing it to cry out in frustration. Tinyclaw darted around it, nodding a grateful "thank you" to Oakheart.

Something crashed just behind them with a loud, bursting noise. Whatever it had been, it pelted Tinyclaw's pelt with splinters – though none pierced his skin. Oakheart and Tinyclaw increased their pace, catching up with Graystripe on the other side of the Twoleg encampment.

"Hurry!" Graystripe called. He was rushing towards one of the stone legs that supported the upper Thunderpath. "They went this way!"

Oakheart and Tinyclaw followed Graystripe towards the leg. Tinyclaw spotted one of the WindClan cats slipping behind the leg, going down some sort of slope and into the ground. The three cats paused beside the entrance.

Like their sleeping place the night before, this tunnel was round and lined with stone. WindClan scent overpowered the stench of the Thunderpath here, sweeping away all their doubts.

"Another tunnel?" gasped Oakheart.

Graystripe only nodded.

"Let's see where they're hiding then," Oakheart breathed. "Be on your guard – they'll be on theirs."

Oakheart led the way down the tunnel this time. Graystripe went next, and Tinyclaw followed after a deep, calming breath. Paws shaking, he padded down the tunnel after Graystripe, grateful that he was last in the line this time. He didn't want them knowing how he felt about the small space.

The tunnel eventually opened up, much like the other, into a larger, flatter area lined with stone. There was a dip in the middle, running its whole length, where a trickle of water flowed like a stream. The air was rank and bitter with the fear-scent of WindClan, and Tinyclaw curled his nose.

A hole in the ceiling of the tunnel let in enough light to let Tinyclaw glimpse the edges of the tunnel. It washed over the pelts of tired, hungry cats huddled together in groups along the edges of the tunnel. Queens and elders were close, sharing tongues weakly. What looked like a group of young apprentices were slumped on the ground, bony and hungry. The smell of crow-food was in the air, and bones littered the ground.

The tunnel rumbled as a monster roared overhead – while the ThunderClan cats flinched, the WindClan cats were numb to the sounds and the feelings. They went on with their lives as if it didn't happen at all.

As the noise died away, an older WindClan tom turned his head towards the entrance. His eyes widened as he spotted the intruders. He let out a cry.

In one smooth movement the lean, hungry warriors of WindClan rose, claws unsheathed, and formed a line around the weak and sick, hissing threats.

Tinyclaw felt dread prickling up his pelt as these half-starved cats stared at them, ready to attack.


	8. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

_Oakheart flicked his tail in warning._ Tinyclaw forced himself to lower his fur, realizing that they had to appear as friends, not a threat. Tinyclaw nudged Graystripe, and the gray tom seemed to understand it too, his fluffy pelt flattening.

The WindClan warriors didn't move. Tinyclaw blinked in surprise. _They're waiting for their leader!_ He thought, impressed. _Even after all they've been through, they haven't lost faith in the warrior code._

A black-and-white tom padded between his warriors. His tail was long, like the branch of a tree, and with a jolt Tinyclaw realized that this cat must be Tallstar – WindClan's leader, and the cat he had seen in his dream. He was just as ThunderClan warriors had described him, but the gleam of the light against his ribcage told Tinyclaw that Tallstar had seen some of the worst of his Clan's hardships.

Tallstar sniffed the air, trying to discern the scents of these cats – but they were downwind, thanks to the air blowing in from the other side of the tunnel. Tallstar came closer, his amber eyes flashing as he came close to Oakheart. Tinyclaw wrinkled his nose, smelling crow-food wafting up from the WindClan leader.

"Oakheart," Tallstar realized. He stepped away, raising his tail to his Clan. "ThunderClan," he told them.

The warriors flattened their fur, but the line remained.

Tallstar's eyes narrowed. "I was expecting ShadowClan," he admitted. "What are you doing here?"

"We came to find you," Oakheart explained. "Tigerstar and the other Clan leaders wish for you to return to the moorland."

Tinyclaw flicked his ear. _Mentioning that RiverClan and ShadowClan seemed less than happy is probably a bad idea._

Tallstar's whiskers twitched. His voice was wary. "That land is not safe for my Clan anymore," he stated. The hunted look that flashed through Tallstar's eyes drove a pang of sympathy through Tinyclaw's heart.

"ShadowClan has driven out Brokenstar," Tinyclaw assured him. "He leads ShadowClan no more – he is no longer a threat to your Clan."

Tallstar's eyes flashed. Murmurs of shock rippled through WindClan, and some cats were mewing in relief.

"You guys have to come back," Graystripe insisted. "ShadowClan and RiverClan are starting to hunt in the uplands. We saw a RiverClan patrol hunting near an old badger set on our way here."

Tallstar's eyes narrowed, and he bristled angrily.

Oakheart chuckled. "Flatten your fur, Tallstar – RiverClan are poor rabbit hunters. They went home with empty bellies, I'm afraid."

Tallstar's fur did fall, and his warriors purred with satisfaction. Tallstar's own whiskers twitched in amusement. A good spirit seemed to fall upon WindClan, but Tinyclaw noted with dismay that there were sick and wounded with them, and elderly – this journey would not be easy for WindClan.

"May we travel with you?" Tinyclaw suggested respectfully.

Tallstar did not miss the tactful offer. He flicked his tail and replied, "Yes, you may." He peered closer at Tinyclaw and Graystripe, whiskers twitching. "Who are these two warriors, Oakheart? I've not seen them before."

"These are Tinyclaw and Graystripe," Oakheart meowed, pointing to each in turn with his tail. "They are new warriors of ThunderClan."

Tallstar let his eyes drift over them until his eyes came to rest upon Tinyclaw. Thoughtfully, he murmured, "You're rather small to be a warrior…"

"Believe it or not," Tinyclaw offered, "I am about the same age as Graystripe. I received the same amount of training – I am a warrior."

Tallstar looked him over. "Your name is very appropriate," he decided.

Then, Tallstar turned his head back to his Clan. They were already jostling into traveling groups, and Tinyclaw heard the squealing of kits somewhere within the group. Tallstar called, "Are we travel-ready?"

"All but Morningflower's kit," spoke a tom with a misshapen paw. He limped forward, bulkier and heavier than Tallstar, with a smoky black coat. "He is still rather young."

"We will take turns carrying him, then," Tallstar decided. To his Clan, he announced, "We leave at once!"

The WindClan cats cheered with surprising vigor. Tinyclaw felt their hope prickling in his paws, and he couldn't help but smile at their brightening eyes. They shuffled forward, and Tinyclaw quickly picked Morningflower out from the crowd – the dappled queen looked weak from kitting, and her kit, eyes closed tight, was clamped securely in her jaws.

"Ready?" Tallstar asked.

The black tom glanced back at the Clan, then looked to Tallstar. "Ready," he meowed confidently.

Oakheart dipped his head and the three ThunderClan cats led the way out of the tunnel, back the way they'd come. Tallstar caught up with them, his stride confident and his tail raised as a symbol of hope for his Clan. Tinyclaw stayed behind as WindClan made their way through the tunnel and out, up into the world – he caught up quickly once the last WindClan cat was upon the surface.

Catching up to Oakheart, he asked, "Are we going back the way we came?"

"Yes," Oakheart decided. "It's a lot quicker than the route WindClan took to get here."

"Is it safe?" Tallstar asked, trotting up to Oakheart's side.

"We met no trouble on our way here," Graystripe assured the WindClan leader.

Tallstar dipped his head in assent. "Come, walk with me Graystripe," he called, flicking his tail to the other warrior. To Oakheart, he asked, "Lead the way."

To Tinyclaw, he offered, "Walk with my Clan – keep an eye on them. Tell my deputy if you meet trouble."

"Which one is your deputy?" Tinyclaw asked.

Tallstar flicked his tail to the bulkier black tom who was limping on his misshapen paw. "Deadfoot," Tallstar meowed. Tinyclaw nodded, and fell back to join Deadfoot.

Oakheart led the way past the patch of waste ground where the Twolegs had been sleeping. The fire was gone, smoldering smoke, and so were the Twolegs. Tinyclaw wirnkled his nose – they might have been gone, but their foul stench lingered in the air. Oakheart gave the area a wide berth, leading WindClan around and towards the tunnel where the ThunderClan party had spent their first night.

Graystripe led the way through the tunnel, tail raised in confidence. Tallstar followed, and so did the rest of WindClan. Oakeheart followed behind, but Tinyclaw paused at the edge, looking down into the dark depths. He shivered, recalling just how it felt when it seemed the walls were closing in on him, and how he would have to bury his fear again.

"Does it lead to daylight?" asked Deadfoot. The warrior had remained as well, uncertain.

Tinyclaw swallowed his own misgivings. _They're relying on us,_ he thought. _I can't act like I'll be leading them astray…_ "It does," he meowed. "We slept here last night – the tunnel leads just under the Thunderpath."

Deadfoot nodded, and Tinyclaw led the way into the darkness. His fur prickled, and he was grateful for the darkness of his pelt. He could hear Deadfoot grumbling behind him, complaining how WindClan cats only crossed Thunderpaths where they could see the end.

Tinyclaw emerged into the fresh air, taking deep gulps of it before Deadfoot or some other cat caught him and thought he was mouse-brained. He caught up with the rest of WindClan, Deadfoot just behind, and as soon as they had joined the group Oakheart took the lead across the crisp grass of the field. Tinyclaw and Deadfoot picked a side of the Clan and flanked them, following to make sure no cat strayed.

They were not halfway across the field before Tinyclaw noticed the WindClan cats lagging behind. Morningflower in particular was finding it hard to keep up, stumbling over her kit with tiredness in her eyes.

Before Tinyclaw could announce it, Deadfoot yowled, "Tallstar! We must travel slower!"

Tinyclaw noticed Morningflower lagging farther and farther behind. Concerned, he slowed his pace to join up with her. She was panting heavily, and from her gait Tinyclaw guessed that it really had not been long since her kitting. She was in pain.

Gently, he requested, "I can take him. Just while you catch your breath."

Morningflower eyed him cautiously, and Tinyclaw thought she would be too proud to accept his offer – but she gently passed the kit to him, and Tinyclaw held him securely in his jaws. He did not dare stray from Morningflower's side – the two walked closely so that Morningflower could keep a ready eye on her kit.

Tallstar had slowed the pace of his warriors, by not by much. Energy burned in the WindClan leader's boney, malnourished body – he wanted to get his Clan home as quickly as possible.

Tinyclaw glanced at the sky, and he understood another part of Tallstar's urgency. There were plenty of Thunderpaths between here and the moorlands – WindClan needed to cross before the monsters started coming in droves. With old, weak, sick, and young, that would make it all the harder to make it across.

By the time Tinyclaw and Morningflower arrived at the hedge where they had almost lost WindClan's trail the night before, Tallstar had his Clan gathered around him.

"We cross here," Tallstar decided. His voice rose above the sound of a monster racing past on the other side of the hedge.

Tinyclaw felt a tug, and found that Morningflower was reaching for her kit. Tinyclaw relinquished the tiny tom to his mother. Morningflower purred, brushing her cheek gratefully against Tinyclaw's. Her breath and strength regained, she carried her kit to the other WindClan warriors. Tinyclaw followed her.

Tallstar and Deadfoot were settled beside a gap in the hedge that led the way through to the wide gray track just beyond. Oakheart was watching the path intently, tail flicking from side-to-side. Graystripe was sitting beside a young brown-furred warrior; when Tinyclaw approached, Graystripe flicked his tail to the stranger.

"This is Onewhisker," Graystripe introduced.

A monster sped past, drowning out Onewhisker's mew of greeting. Tinyclaw only nodded in reply, ears ringing.

Eyes stinging, Tinyclaw realized with dismay that all these cats could not cross the Thunderpath at once. There were too many that were too weak to run across, and all of them going at once would only cause chaos.

"We need to cross in groups," Tinyclaw called to Tallstar, his voice rasping over the dust of the Thunderpath. "Graystripe and I can stay with any cats who need help."

Realizing quickly that he was giving orders to a Clan leader, Tinyclaw offered hesitantly, "If you agree, that is."

Tallstar blinked, and Deadfoot's whiskers twitched with amusement.

"The strongest shall go first," Tallstar decided. He flicked his tail, and Deadfoot loped off to arrange the groups.

Three more monsters had roared past both ways by the time Deadfoot had the WindClan cats divided up into groups. Tinyclaw frowned – the Thunderpath was much busier today than it had been the night before. Would they all be able to make it across?

Graystripe let out a call when the Thunderpath went silent. Onewhisker led his group across – a group of stronger warriors with a little more meat on their bones than their Clanmates. They crossed easily and waited nervously on the other side of the Thunderpath.

A group of elders led by a young warrior were to go next – Graystripe waited for three more monsters to pass before giving them the go-ahead.

Their crossing was painful to watch – the tunnel they had been living in had stripped their pads bare, so the elders found it hard to walk across the stony path. Graystripe's fur bristled and he let out a cry – a monster was heading for them!

The warrior yowled something, and the elders pricked up the pace. The monster zoomed by just as the last elder crossed to the other side. When the monster was gone, Tinyclaw counted the number of cats – they had all made it across. Tinyclaw breathed a sigh of relief.

Morningflower's group was next, and the last before Oakheart, Tallstar, and Deadfoot would cross. She was being led across by a rickety elder, and Tinyclaw approached cautiously.

"I'll join you, if you like," he offered.

Morningflower blinked, and then nodded gratefully – but when Tinyclaw bent to take her kit, Morningflower pulled away. Tinyclaw tipped his head, but when he saw the fierce look in her eyes, he understood: Morningflower and her kit would live or die together.

Graystripe gave the signal, and then moved to join their group. They began padding across the path, eyes peeled for monsters. Tinyclaw felt the ground rumble beneath his paws as one approached from the distance.

"Go!" he howled, nudging Morningflower. The monster was speeding in their direction.

Morningflower shot away to the other side, sheltering with her Clan. The elderly in the group had a much harder time – two had collapsed into panting, shaking heaps in the middle of the Thunderpath. Graystripe let out a cry of dismay.

Tinyclaw could feel the rumbling growing closer. He and Graystripe lunged for an elder each, dragging them by their scruffs towards the edge of the Thunderpath. The monster was roaring, looming closer and closer, until Tinyclaw was gagging on its fumes.

Graystripe had his elder across, but he let out a cry. "Tinyclaw!" he called. "Look out!"

Tinyclaw dropped the scruff of his elder in shock, letting out a screech as he was face-to-face with a monster. The monster let out a horrifying sound, grinding and grating in Tinyclaw's ears. It veered off sharply, its round black paws leaving stinking marks on the road as it sped around him and the cowering elder.

It took Tinyclaw a moment to regain his senses. He nudged the elder to their paws, body numb with shock and ears ringing so loud he could hear when Graystripe asked if he was all right. Tinyclaw flopped onto the grass, panting.

His hearing had returned somewhat by the time Tallstar and his group crossed. Deadfoot went to check on the elder, but Tallstar and Oakheart came to check on Tinyclaw. Tinyclaw insisted he was fine, and the journey continued.

As they got moving, Onewhisker padded alongside Tinyclaw. His eyes were wide with awe.

"You would have died for us," he breathed. "WindClan will never forget that."

"Onewhisker is right," Tallstar agreed. The WindClan leader came up from behind to pad alongside Tinyclaw. "WindClan shall honor you – all of you – in our stories."

Tallstar looked ahead, to the horizon. "We must keep moving," he decided.

The WindClan cats were again traveling at an easy pace, led by Tallstar, Oakheart, and Graystripe. Tinyclaw stuck close to his side of the Clan, while Deadfoot kept to his. Tinyclaw glanced at Morningflower, who was walking close to Tinyclaw. A gray queen had Morningflower's kit in her jaws, and Morningflower was not letting her bundle out of her sight.

They traveled along the Thunderpath until they broke away and headed towards the Twoleg farm at the edge of the forest. The scents and sounds seemed to comfort the WindClan cats, but they were still very tired and moving at a slower pace than when they'd started. Sunhigh had come and gone, and the day had gotten no warmer – clouds, dark and heavy with rain, formed on the horizon.

Tinyclaw gave a hopeful sniff – but there was no sign of Ravenpaw. _Did I make a mistake?_ He wondered. _I shouldn't have sent him alone!_

The clouds billowed up over Highstones, and a cold wind brought them up and over the forest. Rain fell, cold and harsh, soaking the pelts of the journeying cats through in an instant. It spattered and splashed against the ground, pattering loudly.

Tinyclaw looked at the WindClan cats. There was no way that they could travel through the night like this – not with as hungry and tired as they were. Yellowfang's traveling herbs had long since worn off, and the adrenaline from crossing the Thunderpath had stayed Tinyclaw's hunger for the most part but now he was beginning to feel it gnawing at his belly. A glance at any cat told Tinyclaw that they felt the same.

"Tallstar!" Tinyclaw called. "I think we ought to stop for the night."

Tallstar stopped walking, and so did WindClan. Tinyclaw caught up with him. Tallstar meowed, "I agree; there are ditches here. We can shelter in one of those."

Tinyclaw and Graystripe exchanged an anxious glance.

"We oughtn't do that, Tallstar," Oakheart suggested. Rain was rippling off of his powerful shoulders. "There are rats in these ditches – nasty ones. Let's try the hedgerow instead."

Tallstar sighed, and then nodded. "Very well," he agreed. He turned to his Clan and announced that they would be stopping – all of them seemed grateful at the idea.

Oakheart led the way to the hedgerow, but it was soon realized that this place was no better than the ditches. The hedge was on the wrong side to shield them from the rain, and the WindClan cats huddled up together in grounds, shivering. Tinyclaw sighed, his belly screeching for nourishment.

"There won't be much prey around here," complained Graystripe. "It's too close to Twolegs and the Thunderpath."

Tinyclaw nodded in agreement.

No sooner than it seemed that Oakheart was about to offer himself up for hunting, the WindClan warriors rose, fur bristling in the rain. Tinyclaw pricked his ears as he heard the grass swishing, and a scent wafted over the breeze, one that he had given up hope of ever scenting again.

"Ravenpaw!" Tinyclaw called.

The sleek black cat appeared through the grass. His eyes brightened as he spotted Tinyclaw and Graystripe.

"Tinypaw! Graypaw!" he called back, tail raised in joy.

Tinyclaw and Graystripe raced over to their friend, and Tinyclaw nuzzled Ravenpaw. "Thank StarClan you're safe!" Tinyclaw purred.

"And it's Tiny_claw_ and Gray_stripe_ now!" Graystripe added, whiskers twitching proudly. "We're warriors!"

"Who is this cat?" Deadfoot snarled, the hostility in his voice making Tinyclaw flinch.

_Mouse-dung!_ Tinyclaw felt a cold chill run down his spine as he looked at the WindClan warriors. They might not have heard Tinyclaw call Ravenpaw's name through the storm, but Oakheart would recognize the apprentice on-sight. _Ravenpaw is supposed to be dead!_

"He's a loner," Oakheart meowed.

Tinyclaw watched the bracken-colored tom approach Ravenpaw. Oakheart's eyes gleamed.

"He's a friend of the Clans," Oakheart assured them. "No threat. In fact, he can help us find food."

Ravenpaw looked shocked at Oakheart's words. But, the black tom replied confidently, "I know all the best places to find food around here. I can help."

"Why would a loner help us?" Onewhisker wondered.

"Loners have helped us before," Graystripe pointed out. "One helped us when we had an issue with rats around this area."

Ravenpaw came forward and dipped his head. "Please, let me help," he implored the WindClan cats. "If you're a friend of Tinyclaw's and Graystripe's, you're a friend of mine. I owe them my life."

The WindClan cats murmured to themselves, but the moment that Tallstar lowered his fur, the rest of them did. They looked far skinnier than they had that morning, wet through from the rain. Tallstar nodded in agreement to Ravenpaw's request, too tired to give verbal approval.

"I'll go find Barley," Ravenpaw offered, looking at Tinyclaw. "He can help."

Tinyclaw nodded in agreement, and then insisted, "Be quick!"

Ravenpaw nodded, and the shot off into the grass. Tinyclaw blinked, shocked at his friends utterly new demeanor. _It's like he's a different cat!_

"Tinyclaw!"

Tinyclaw flinched at Oakheart's voice. He turned, and saw that the bracken-colored warrior had Graystripe beside him just away from the WindClan cats. Oakheart's eyes burned into Tinyclaw's. "Come here," he called.

Heart beating in his ears, Tinyclaw plodded to Oakheart. _He's going to be so mad that I lied,_ he thought. _He's going to tell Bluefur, and she'll find Ravenpaw and kill him!_

"Look at me, you two," Oakheart rumbled.

Graystripe and Tinyclaw exchanged a worried glance, and then looked up at Oakheart.

Oakheart took a deep breath. "I do not know why Ravenpaw is here. I do not know why you lied to the Clan about him. All I know is that Tigerstar told me I might meet an unexpected face on this journey, and that if I did, I was to keep it secret."

Relief flooded Tinyclaw. If Tigerstar ordered Oakheart to keep his jaws sealed about Ravenpaw, then not even the fact that Bluefur was his mate would make Oakheart tell.

"I will keep this meeting with Ravenpaw a secret," Oakheart promised. "Though… it is very confusing. Why is he here?"

Tinyclaw shivered.

"We can't say," Graystripe offered in Tinyclaw's stead. "We promised Ravenpaw we wouldn't tell any cat."

"No cat can know that he's here," Tinyclaw pleaded. "Please, Oakheart, don't tell WindClan who he is!"

Oakheart narrowed his eyes.

"Very well," he sighed. "I don't know what's going on, but I'm going to trust you two – and Tigerstar – on this. Next time, though, keep your voices down. WindClan is not deaf."

Tinyclaw nodded in agreement, relief giving him new energy. Oakheart would keep Ravenpaw a secret!

Just as their conversation ended, Barley and Ravenpaw reappeared through the grass. Barley gasped at the sight of so many soaked cats. Barley himself looked no worse for wear than when Tinyclaw had last seen him – the black-and-white loner looked just as full and strong as before.

"We need to get you all some shelter!" Barley decided. "Come with me – come now!"

The WindClan cats were hesitant, but when Oakheart, Tinyclaw, and Graystripe were joined by Tallstar, they had no choice but to trust their leader.

* * *

><p>Barley led them to a tumbledown Twoleg nest made of stones and wood. Half its roof had fallen in seasons ago, and it was nearly overtaken by ivy. Bushes grew up between the wood planks of its floor, and it was at just the right angle to keep them from the rain.<p>

The WindClan cats hesitated again at their gloomy shelter.

"You won't get me in there!" complained a warrior.

"Twolegs never come in here now," Barley assured them. "It's safe."

Tinyclaw bristled as an apprentice sneered, "I'm not shocked that ThunderClan cat wants us to go in there – once a kittypet, _always_ a kittypet!"

_I haven't heard that in moons,_ Tinyclaw realized. He supposed that WindClan had still been in the forest when Tinyclaw had joined ThunderClan – the news that a kittypet had joined a Clan had to be rich gossip at any Gathering. Of course WindClan was aware of his heritage.

Still, it burned deep in Tinyclaw's fur. He whirled on the apprentice and snarled, "You've spent half a season living in a Twoleg tunnel – does that make you a rat?"

The apprentice drew himself up, fluffing out his fur; but Graystripe got between them before any more words could be exchanged.

"Enough," he growled. "Get inside before you catch cold!"

"We have faced worse than a Twoleg nest these past moons," Tallstar agreed. "We rest here for tonight."

The WindClan cats still seemed reluctant. Tinyclaw seethed in frustration – was it really so bad to be warm and dry if it was a Twoleg structure that made you so?

Finally, Morningflower let out a scoff of frustration herself. She picked up her kit and padded into the den, nodding at Tinyclaw along the way. Slowly, one by one, the WindClan cats funneled inside the shelter of the tumbledown nest. The ThunderClan cats, Tallstar, Deadfoot, Barley, and Ravenpaw were last into the structure.

It was not pretty – but it was shelter. Wind whistled through the cracks in the stones and the wood, but the worst of it was off of the cats' fur, and what was left of the roof kept the rain off but for a few drops here and there. The ground beneath their paws was smooth and rough, not unlike the Twoleg tunnel itself, but overgrown with grasses and moss. The WindClan cats began settling themselves in places better sheltered from the drafts and rain. Tallstar was watching them with approval and relief in his eyes.

"What about food?" asked Deadfoot, glancing at Ravenpaw and Barley.

"You can all rest," Ravenpaw assured them. "We can do the hunting."

Deadfoot did not look pleased at that.

Oakheart stepped forward. "Barley and his companion can show us the better placed for hunting," he meowed. "We will feed WindClan tonight."

"Deadfoot and Onewhisker will go with you," Tallstar meowed, flicking his tail. Onewhisker came forward from the crowd. "No offense, but there may be rabbits out there – a rabbit or two will bring up WindClan's spirits."

"Just show us where they are!" Onewhisker mewed, smirking. "They won't stand a chance!"

Ravenpaw and Barley purred. The two loners led the way out of the barn and back into the rain. Though Tinyclaw's belly was rumbling, he smiled at the thought of hunting with his friend again, even if it was in the rain with a starving Clan to feed.

* * *

><p>WindClan shared a feast when they returned. Each cat had a load of fresh-kill in their mouths – more mice and shrews ran here than they ever did in the forest, even in driving rain. Each cat from youngest to eldest ate their fill, and when they were done they gathered into groups to share tongues with one another. Wind and rain lashed at their shelter, but inside they were a Clan again.<p>

Darkness began to turn the world black around them when Barley took his leave, claiming there were rats to catch. WindClan gave them their sincerest thanks. Oakheart nodded to him from his place near the entrance, where he was keeping watch. Ravenpaw remained, settling with Tinyclaw and Graystripe.

"What happened after we left you?" Tinyclaw asked. He was determined to know if Ravenpaw was happy here.

"I headed across WindClan territory, like you told me to," Ravenpaw replied.

"The dogs?" Graystripe asked.

"They were out, but I avoided them easily," Ravenpaw answered proudly. "They were pretty dumb, and boy did they stink! I got past them and ran into Barley. He's letting me stay with him… and I think he likes having me around. Company, you know. Even loners get lonely."

Tinyclaw looked approvingly on his friend. _Oh, how you've changed!_ This had clearly been nothing but a good experience for Ravenpaw.

"We told ThunderClan that you were killed by a ShadowClan patrol," Tinyclaw offered, lowering his voice. "They believed us."

"Don't worry; Oakheart won't tell," Graystripe added. "Tinyclaw told Tigerstar what really happened to you, and he told Oakheart we might run into you on this journey."

"That's nice of him," Ravenpaw decided, "but he's Bluefur's mate. Why wouldn't he tell her?"

"Because there's no reason for him to think that Bluefur ought to know," Tinyclaw insisted. He didn't want to tell Ravenpaw that his attempts to warn Tigerstar about Bluefur had ended in failure. "And -"

"Oh yes!" called Ravenpaw loudly, ears flicking. Tinyclaw followed them to spot a group of apprentices creeping close to them. "We eat Clan apprentices whenever we get the chance. Lots of meat on them!"

"You don't scare us!" claimed a tom. He had his eyes narrowed crossly at Ravenpaw.

"Really?" Ravenpaw guessed. He glanced at the apprentices and then shrugged. "I guess your meat would be tough and stringy, anyway."

The apprentices didn't look happy about that. The tom asked Tinyclaw, "Why are you friends with a loner, anyway?"

"They know where to find the good meat," Tinyclaw replied, straight-faced.

The tom eyed him oddly, and Graystripe snorted in amusement.

Tinyclaw flicked his tail. "It's wise to make friends when you can," he told the apprentices. "If it weren't for this loner, we'd be wet and hungry instead of dry and well-fed. I'd do my best not to be rude to him." He narrowed his eyes in warning.

The apprentices slunk away.

"So I'm dead, eh?" Ravenpaw sighed, when the apprentices were out of earshot. "I suppose that's for the best."

Ravenpaw stood up and stretched, muscles rippling beneath his sleek pelt. "You two ought to get some rest – I'll take over for Oakheart."

"It's been so good to see you," Graystripe expressed. "We're glad you're OK."

"Me, too," Ravenpaw replied.

Ravenpaw padded off to sit beside Oakheart. A moment later, the warrior left his post and huddled up amongst the WindClan warriors.

No words needed to be exchanged between Tinyclaw and Graystripe – they curled up together and fell asleep almost instantly, the sound of the rain pattering against the roof over their heads sending them off into their dreams.

* * *

><p>They woke as red dawn light streamed in through the slats of the shelter. Ravenpaw was gone, but there was fresh prey waiting for the Clan when they woke, huddled in a pile in the crook of two walls. Most of WindClan were still stirring and waking – but there was one tom who had been awake before all the others, before Tinyclaw himself.<p>

He was short, stocky, with WindClan's leanness. His tail was shorter than most, almost appearing to have been bobbed by injury. His fur was coarse and brown, and his amber eyes peered at the sunrise through the gap in the roof. A yowl escaped his throat that woke half the Clan.

"What is it, Barkface?" asked Morningflower, eyes bleary with sleep.

"StarClan has spoken to me!" Barkface called. His fur began bristling.

_He's their medicine cat!_ Tinyclaw realized. He shot up, nudging Graystripe awake. Graystripe stirred and let out a complaint, but opened his eyes. The rest of WindClan were wakening at his yowl.

"What have they said?" Tallstar demanded. "What?"

Barkface turned his head to look at his Clan. His eyes fell on each one of them, and his voice spoke with an intensity that all medicine cats seemed to have:

"This day shall bring unnecessary death!"


	9. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

_Silence gripped the cats in the_ barn. For a while, no one spoke.

Then, Deadfoot piped up, his tone reassuring, "Any medicine cat could have seen those clouds – the message might not be for WindClan."

With his words, hopeful mews rippled throughout the gathered Clan. Tinyclaw shifted on his paws, hoping that Deadfoot was right – WindClan had suffered enough this past moon.

Tallstar surveyed his Clan. He stood, head held high, and meowed, "Whatever StarClan has planned for us – or any Clan – today, we return home. Rain is on the wind, WindClan – it's time we set off."

His practical tone further calmed the Clan, and the WindClan cats stood up and began getting ready to move. Tinyclaw pushed himself to his paws and gave his pelt a quick grooming. He stretched with Graystripe and then padded forward to join Oakheart.

"Shall we scout ahead?" Tinyclaw offered. His legs were itching to get moving.

Tallstar nodded. "Yes, please," he meowed. "My Clan is strong this morning, but we haven't the strength to deal with Twolegs or dogs or rats. Let us know if there is any danger ahead."

Tinyclaw blinked, seeing the worried look in Tallstar's eyes. _He's more concerned about Barkface's ominous prophecy than he let on!_ Tinyclaw realized. _Is it brave of him to hide those fears?_

Regardless of what Tallstar really thought, the WindClan cats began moving. While Oakheart walked with Tallstar and Deadfoot at the head of the Clan, Tinyclaw and Graystripe took turns scouting far ahead and then reporting back.

It felt good to be on the home stretch – Tinyclaw felt full of energy, despite the gloomy clouds on the horizon and Barkface's prophecy. The thought of bringing WindClan home was giving his paws wings, and the relief of knowing Ravenpaw was all right and his secret would stay safe with Oakheart filled his lungs with breath. The excitement of the journey home seemed greater than the journey away, and Tinyclaw suddenly couldn't wait to not only be back in his own nest, but see WindClan settling in theirs.

By sunhigh those gloomy clouds had crossed the horizon. Raindrops began to fall, slowly at first, onto the journeying Clan. The ground was beginning to slope up and up, and the Twolegplace was far behind the journeying cats.

A gust of wind brought the scent of heather to Tinyclaw's nose, and when he pushed through the hedge of gorse that sat at the top of the rise he recognized the flat, barren land that stretched before them – they had reached the edge of WindClan's territory.

Tinyclaw cast a hopeful look at Graystripe, and his friend shared it in the twitch of his whiskers. _Almost there!_ Tinyclaw thought.

The two turned back, eager to tell WindClan. The Clan had almost caught up with them, with Deadfoot in the lead. The black tom was startled by Tinyclaw's and Graystripe's sudden appearance.

"This way!" Tinyclaw called eagerly. He couldn't wait to see their reaction to seeing their home again. Waving his tail to the gorse, Tinyclaw followed the WindClan cats as they trekked up the slope.

Their pace quickened. Tinyclaw followed after the last cat as they began trotting up the slope and through the gorse. There, on the other side, they paused, breathing in the scents of their home as it blew across the rainswept landscape. Tinyclaw felt hope fill his heart as some cats began murmuring excitedly amongst themselves.

Deadfoot led the way across the moor. Ahead, Tinyclaw could see that there was another slope to cross – but already WindClan was picking up the pace. Tails flicking, ears pricked, these cats were moving confidently across the moors. Tinyclaw had to put in extra effort to keep up with their longer legs – by the time they reached that next slope, Tinyclaw was puffing.

They paused here, too, to breathe in the smells of home. Tinyclaw glanced at Morningflower. The queen was always near the back of the crowd, surrounded by a troop of stronger queens and warriors. Her kit was well-looked-after, and Morningflower never let him leave her sight. Tinyclaw looked fondly at the queen and couldn't wait to see her properly settled in the WindClan nursery.

Tallstar moved to the front of the Clan, and Graystripe fell back to walk beside Tinyclaw. Oakheart and Deadfoot fell in step behind Tallstar as the WindClan leader raised his long, thin tail and led the way up the slope and towards home.

Together, Tinyclaw and Graystripe followed WindClan up the slope. The Clan was moving fast, their eagerness giving one another speed and energy. Even the elders were increasing their pace, their eyes bright and tails high at the sight of the land they had spent their whole lives in. The Clan made proud silhouettes against the dark sky as they stopped at the top of the slope.

Tinyclaw and Graystripe caught up, WindClan's infectious eagerness making their pelts buzz with excitement. Before them stretched WindClan territory in its splendor, lashed by rain and wind.

A few WindClan cats stepped out hesitantly, as if they couldn't believe that they were home – a group of apprentices charged ahead with whooping calls of excitement, paws pounding for home.

"Wait!" called Tallstar.

The apprentices halted in their tracks.

"There might be hunting parties from the other Clans here!" Tallstar warned.

The apprentices slunk back to join the Clan, but their eyes were still bright with exhilaration.

Tallstar raised his tail, and the Clan fanned out. Warriors stuck to the edges, searching for intruders, while the weaker cats walked confidently inside their protection. Tinyclaw and Graystripe walked out front with Tallstar, striding beside Oakheart and Deadfoot. Never before had Tinyclaw thought he would do such a thing – walk beside such noble, strong warriors!

Just ahead, on the rock-strewn waste, was the familiar dip in the ground. WindClan's camp was within sight, and it was hard to quiet the excited murmuring of the Clan. They held formation, however, paws impatient to be getting home.

Morningflower let out a cry of eagerness, however. Tinyclaw looked back, finding that the dappled queen had picked up her rain-soaked kit. She broke through the crowd, tail high, and raced for the camp.

Tallstar did not stop the queen. He raised his tail, and three warriors raced after her. Once those three were over the slope and in the bushes, the rest of WindClan followed. Warriors, apprentices, queens, and elders raced into the gorse and down into their camp. Tinyclaw could hear their excited mews from where he stood.

_They made it!_ Tinyclaw rejoiced.

Tallstar remained beside the ThunderClan warriors. He turned to them, his eyes shining with gratitude. "My Clan is grateful to you for your help," he meowed. "You three have proven yourself warriors worthy of StarClan – WindClan has come home, but now it is time you return to yours."

Tinyclaw couldn't help but feel disappointment. He had wanted to see Morningflower settled in with her kit – but he knew Tallstar was right. There was no need for them to stay any longer.

Oakheart was nodding in agreement. "We will be on our way," he meowed.

"There may be hostile hunting parties about," Tallstar offered. "Onewhisker and Deadfoot will escort you to Fourtrees."

"Thank you, Tallstar," Tinyclaw meowed, bowing his head.

Tallstar let out a call, and Deadfoot and Onewhisker appeared through the gorse. He gave them their orders, and then he turned his tired eyes to the ThunderClan cats once more. "You have served WindClan well," he told them. "Tell Tigerstar that WindClan will not forget that it was ThunderClan who brought them home."

"I will," Oakheart promised. "Be well, Tallstar."

"To you as well," Tallstar meowed.

The black-and-white tom trotted away, tail high, and pushed through the gorse. The excited murmuring of the Clan in their camp grew a little louder as Tallstar entered, and Tinyclaw breathed a sigh of relief.

"Coming, Tinyclaw?"

Tinyclaw looked ahead. Deadfoot was already well on his way, with Graystripe and Oakheart following behind. Onewhisker was looking at him, eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Do you like the moorland that much?" Onewhisker wondered.

Tinyclaw lashed his tail and meowed, "Your land is beautiful, Onewhisker – but I, personally, prefer trees over my head. I was just getting caught up in the moment, that's all."

Onewhisker raised his tail and let Tinyclaw go in front of him. The two caught up with Deadfoot and the others quickly. Together, they headed up the rise towards Fourtrees.

The group stayed close as they followed Deadfoot's sure paws across the moors. A great wall of gorse to one side provided good shelter from the rain, but the path was narrow and the gorse pricked at even Tinyclaw's pelt. Tinyclaw did not complain.

Suddenly, Onewhisker raised his tail.

"Rabbit!" he called.

The tabby tom shot away, and Deadfoot did not stop him. The deputy's whiskers were twitching with amusement. Tinyclaw watched Onewhisker disappear over the rise, suddenly realized how hungry he was himself.

Onewhisker appeared a moment later, dragging a large rabbit over the slope by the neck. He dropped it before the patrol, eyes shining.

"Far better than RiverClan," Oakheart chuckled.

Deadfoot and Onewhisker both purred.

"Hungry?" Onewhisker offered.

Wordlessly, the cats each took a share of the rabbit. Though in reality each share wasn't that great, it was still enough to line their stomachs.

Tinyclaw finished first. He looked up through the gorse, towards the trees moving in the distance. He narrowed his eyes.

"Something up, Tinyclaw?" Deadfoot wondered.

Tinyclaw twitched his tail.

"I was just thinking that if we go back the way we came, we won't be home until almost sunset," Tinyclaw meowed. "It might be faster going if we followed the river."

Oakheart blinked. "That would mean crossing into RiverClan territory," he meowed. "Do we really want to risk that?"

Graystripe stood up and cleaned his whiskers. "It's not like we would be going to steal prey or anything," he reasoned. "Besides, this mission was agreed upon at the Gathering, wasn't it? RiverClan shouldn't mind if we're in their territory for a blink."

"Yeah!" Onewhisker agreed, hopping to his paws. "We're all exhausted – a shorter route would only mean we get home quicker."

Oakheart glanced at Deadfoot. The two older warriors shared a look.

Finally, Oakheart shrugged. "It's up to you, Deadfoot," he decided.

Deadfoot turned his head, looking towards the forest. The big, dark, cat let out a grunt. "If we did go that way, it would let RiverClan know WindClan is home," he reasoned.

"And they wouldn't try stealing rabbits ever again!" Onewhisker added.

"We'd be home before moonrise ourselves," Deadfoot meowed, sounding more certain. "Alright; we'll go that route. Come on – there's no time to waste."

Deadfoot got up and led the way out of the gorse. Onewhisker, Tinyclaw, and Graystripe followed, while Oakheart brought up the rear. Tinyclaw felt confident as they padded along an old badger trail that led up and up until they were in RiverClan territory. Tinyclaw could hear the thundering roar of the river in the gorge even through the rain.

They followed the trail towards the noise of the river. The path shrank and shrank until the cats were walking single-file on the narrow strip of grass at the edge of the gorge. Down below the water roared, crashed, and tumbled in the tumult, threatening to swallow any who so much as laid one paw wrong.

Tinyclaw looked across. Over the gap lay ThunderClan territory, with its familiar trees and smells. _I wonder, if I weren't so tired…_ Tinyclaw eyed the gap. _Could I leap it?_

He couldn't resist looking down even if he had wanted to. His claws clung to the edge of the path as he peered down into the gorge. Steep, stony walls dropped beneath his paws. Ferns bent and swayed with the force of the water, clinging to stones and other little gaps in the rock. Tinyclaw swallowed – there would be no coming back from a fall like that.

"Come on, Tinyclaw!" Oakheart insisted, nudging Tinyclaw away from the edge. "We don't need you falling."

Tinyclaw pulled away from the gorge and kept walking, thankful that the rain was keeping his pelt down for the most part. Still, he couldn't help but bristle at the thought of falling down the gorge, careening down, down to the depths of the water…

It wasn't just Tinyclaw that was nervous, though. Onewhisker's paw steps were careful, and he kept his eyes firmly on the RiverClan side of the gorge. Deadfoot's tail was lashing, and Tinyclaw saw the flash of his claws. Graystripe's tail was puffed out despite the rain, and Oakheart's pace was increasing as the narrow verge began to merge with ThunderClan territory.

A screech filled the air. Deadfoot bristled, letting out a warning yowl just as a shape burst from the RiverClan side.

"RiverClan!" howled Onewhisker.

Soon they were overwhelmed. RiverClan warriors poured from the trees – a whole patrol's worth, with claws flashing and fur bristling. Tinyclaw bristled – how could they attack them, with the gorge still so close?

The strip of land was filled with furious howls as RiverClan attacked. A massive brown tabby leaped at Tinyclaw, his claws hooked and dangerous. Tinyclaw hopped back, conscious of the gorge, and lashed out with his own claws. He caught the tabby on the nose, but the blow didn't seem the faze the massive tom.

His foe rushed forward with pure strength and knocked Tinyclaw over, pinning him to the ground. The tabby's claws dug into Tinyclaw's pelt, and Tinyclaw let out a screech. The tabby growled, "This is the last time you will set foot on RiverClan land!"

Tinyclaw thought he recognized the voice of the tom, but he was far too aware of the fact that, all around him, his friends were being attacked and outnumbered. Graystripe was yowling, and Onewhisker was hissing in pain and rage. Deadfoot was grunting, and Oakheart let out a screech nearby. They were too exhausted from the journey to fight back with their full strength, and RiverClan was using it to their advantage.

Head thrown back by the warrior pinning him, Tinyclaw could see the forest upside-down. It was so near, yet with ever claw swipe the tabby warrior laid onto him Tinyclaw could feel it getting farther and farther away.

And then the bushes twitched.

In a howl of rage, ThunderClan warriors burst through the woods on the other side – a whole patrol! Bluefur led them, her blue eyes blazing with rage. Behind her streamed Whitestorm, Willowpelt, and Sandpaw.

Bluefur leaped the length separating the two patrols and, with yowls of battle, the ThunderClan cats leapt into action. The brown tabby pinning Tinyclaw hissed in frustration before pulling away and launching himself at Bluefur, who had a tortoiseshell she-cat pinned.

Tinyclaw did not concern himself with Bluefur – expectant queen though she was, she could handle herself. Bluefur bit deeply into the tortoiseshell's leg, and she fled – leaving Bluefur to deal with the tabby.

Whitestorm and Oakheart were fighting Leopardfur side-by-side, driving the mottled RiverClan deputy back. Graystripe was wrestling near the gorge's edge with a young black-and-white RiverClan warrior. Tinyclaw was about to holler, to join Graystripe and keep him away from the edge, when a frightened squeal caused him to halt.

_Sandpaw!_

Tinyclaw whirled and spotted the pale ginger she-cat tussling with a RiverClan tom much bigger than she was. She was holding her own, but the two of them were rolling over and over, closer and closer to the gorge. Fear pulsed in Tinyclaw's heart, and he leaped to the battling cats.

He sank his jaws into the enemy warrior's scruff and pulled him off of Sandpaw, growling ferociously. Sandpaw skidded away, closer to the gorge. Tinyclaw raked his claws down the enemy warrior's sides, sending him squealing away in terror.

Sandpaw hissed with rage as Tinyclaw turned her way, panting, but one of her back legs slipped against the edge of the gorge.

Her shriek was cut off as Tinyclaw lunged for her. He grasped her by the scruff of her neck and pulled her away before she fell. When she was safely away from the gorge he let her go. He recoiled as she lashed out at him.

"I can fight my own battles!" she hissed.

Hurt, Tinyclaw backed away. He opened his mouth to explain to her why he had done what he had done, but instead of words, another screech filled the air.

All the cats in the battle stopped and turned their heads. Graystripe, who had been battling with a warrior near the gorge, was now leaning over its edge, hind claws dug into the wet earth. He was leaning down, grasping at something with his front claws. A small white paw clung to the edge.

"I've got you!" Graystripe called. "Don't let go!"

Suddenly, the paw disappeared. Graystripe let out an agonized howl, almost pulled down himself – but Oakheart rushed forward and grabbed him by the scruff to keep him on the edge. A faint wail sounded in the gorge, and Tinyclaw spotted a dark shape falling down, down, down into the water.

In a flash, the warrior was gone.

The battlefield fell silent.

Horror crawled up Tinyclaw's pelt as Barkface's message sounded in his ears: _This day shall bring unnecessary death._


	10. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"_Whiteclaw!"_

Leopardfur's heartbroken, grief-filled cry cut through the silence.

Horror patterned Graystripe's face. He stared at the gorge, mumbling, "I tried… I _tried…_ He couldn't hold on… the ground was too wet… I _tried."_

Tinyclaw bounded away from Sandpaw to comfort his friend. He pressed his pelt into the damp gray fluff of Graystripe's side, and wished there was something – anything – he could say to comfort his friend. Assure him that Whiteclaw's death wasn't his fault.

One by one, the RiverClan cats stepped away from their opponents. They formed a line behind Leopardfur, eyes narrowed and shoulder fur bristling. Leopardfur herself, tail lashing, looked like she was about to leap into the throng and attack Graystripe herself.

Tinyclaw unsheathed his claws, and Willowpelt and Whitestorm stood by his side as they formed a defensive line before Graystripe.

A growl sounded deep in Leopardfur's throat – but it was a warning, not a threat. The RiverClan cats stayed back.

Leopardfur looked Bluefur in the eye. "This has gone beyond a border fight," the RiverClan deputy decided, her voice a dark murmur. "We shall return to our Clan. This is a matter that will be settled another time, in another way."

Bluefur returned Leopardfur's stare. She was clearly winded, and her body bore scratches and scuffs from her fight with Leopardfur. Tinyclaw wondered if the kits held in her swollen belly were all right. Bluefur gave Leopardfur the tiniest of nods.

Leopardfur flicked her tail-tip, and the RiverClan cats retreated into the tufty grass of their territory. Leopardfur threw one last glare at Graystripe before she parted, a dappled streak against the bleary sky.

Tinyclaw swallowed, feeling Leopardfur's words ring in his ears. _Could we have just started a war?_ He wondered.

"We should go," Deadfoot sighed, limping forward. "Your warriors served us well. My Clan thanks you." His words were genuine, but they seemed hollow after the tragedy of Whiteclaw's death.

Bluefur nodded to them as well. Deadfoot limped past the ThunderClan warriors, glancing at Graystripe with sympathy. Tinyclaw murmured a quiet good-bye to Onewhisker as the tabby tom passed, but Onewhisker only dipped his head in return. Soon enough they, too, were gone.

Tinyclaw sighed. He swung his head towards Sandpaw. Claws clutched at his chest as he spotted her staring over the edge of the gorge. He couldn't see her expression, but the way her fur stood on end made Tinyclaw wonder if she was seeing herself falling, sharing the same fate as Whiteclaw.

He lifted a paw to go to her, but Bluefur's voice interrupted him. "Follow me," she growled. "Let's get back to camp."

Bluefur charged towards the trees, and the rest of the patrol followed – even Sandpaw, though her pawsteps were shaky. Tinyclaw hesitated beside Graystripe, nudging his friend.

"We don't want to be left behind," Tinyclaw offered, trying not to sound commanding.

Graystripe's eyes were dull and flat, but he shrugged and followed Tinyclaw past the gorge and into the trees.

The patrol was soon out of sight, but Tinyclaw tracked them by their scent. They were heading straight through the strip of RiverClan forest – it was the quickest way, and there wouldn't be any patrols now. The damage was done.

Bluefur had halted the patrol, waiting for them at the ThunderClan border. Tinyclaw breathed in the smells of home, but it seemed bittersweet now instead of exciting. This entire trip he had looked forward to returning home triumphant, but the tragedy had muted the desire. Now he just wanted to curl up in his nest and sleep.

"I told you to follow," Bluefur meowed.

"We were," Tinyclaw replied. "Graystripe was -"

"The sooner Graystripe gets back to camp, the better," Bluefur said sharply, cutting him off.

Graystripe said nothing. Tinyclaw bristled at his former mentor and snapped, "Whiteclaw's death wasn't his fault – you were there, you saw!"

"We _all_ saw," Bluefur meowed, turning away from Tinyclaw. "But what's done is done. No one here is blaming Graystripe – but we need to return to camp as soon as possible. Keep up this time!"

Tinyclaw sighed, keeping one eye on Graystripe as, together, they crossed over the scent markers into ThunderClan territory.

The rain began easing off as they followed the familiar trail that led to the camp. Tinyclaw's paws fell into step by instinct. His head felt like it was full of clouds, but at least his paws knew the way home. Graystripe seemed to be much the same way, though Tinyclaw imagined that the clouds in his mind was nothing compared to the storm in Graystripe's.

When they pushed through the gorse tunnel and into the clearing, some of the cats were bounding out to meet them. Their eyes were bright, and their tails were held high in greeting.

"Did you find WindClan?" Mousefur wondered.

"Are they safe?" asked her brother, Runningwind.

Tinyclaw could only nod in reply. His expression must have betrayed something, because Mousefur's tail lowered and she turned to Runningwind, her eyes full of confusion.

_We should have returned triumphant, happy, heroes,_ Tinyclaw thought. He observed the Clan, how their tails lowered as they seemed to realize that something had happened. How their eyes dimmed. _If I had not pressed going the route we had, we would have. None of this would have happened._

"Come with me," Bluefur ordered. The rest of the patrol broke off, but Oakheart, Tinyclaw, and Graystripe followed Bluefur to the Highrock and Tigerstar's den. Tinyclaw kept close to Graystripe, close enough that their fur brushed.

Tigerstar's mew was warm from the shadows of the lichen. "Welcome!" he purred. When the group entered, he was on his massive paws, eyes bright. "Did you find WindClan? Are they safe in the moorland now?"

"Yes, Tigerstar," Oakheart replied formally. "We've brought WindClan home – Tallstar told us to thank you."

"Good!" Tigerstar purred. He flicked his tail, and his whiskers twitched. "If that's the case… then why are all of you looking so somber? What has happened?"

"They took a route home through RiverClan territory," Bluefur answered. "They -"

Oakheart raised his tail, cutting his mate off before she could go on. Bluefur threw him a questioning look. To her, Oakheart said, "It was my decision to take that detour – I'll explain what happened."

Bluefur nodded and shut her jaws. Tinyclaw flicked his tail, confused – it had been _Tinyclaw's_ idea, not Oakheart's. Was he going to take the blame for the whole incident?

"We did take that detour, as Bluefur said," Oakheart said to Tigerstar, "but on the way we ran into a RiverClan patrol. Fighting ensued – if Bluefur's patrol hadn't found us, we might not have made it back here."

"So you rescued them?" Tigerstar murmured, glancing at Bluefur. When she nodded, Tigerstar breathed, "Thank you, Bluefur."

"I'm afraid that's not all, Tigerstar," Oakheart went on. Tigerstar's eyes flashed, and Oakheart had his leader's attention. "We were fighting near the gorge. The RiverClan warrior that Graystripe was fighting – Whiteclaw, his name was – fell over the edge during their fight. Graystripe nearly fell off himself trying to save him, but I pulled him back just before they both fell over the edge."

Tigerstar's eyes widened. "He's dead?" he breathed.

"It was an accident!" Tinyclaw meowed quickly, feeling Graystripe shiver beside him. "Graystripe didn't push Whiteclaw off."

"You heard Leopardfur – she doesn't see things that way!" Bluefur snapped, her eyes flashing. "It was a foolish decision, going that way – and with WindClan cats, no less! You've sent the message that ThunderClan and WindClan are allies, which will only drive ShadowClan and RiverClan closer together!"

"WindClan was with you in RiverClan territory?" Tigerstar meowed, alarm in his tone.

"Just two warriors," Oakheart replied. "We were all exhausted, so Tallstar gave us an escort."

"You should not have been in RiverClan territory!" Bluefur hissed. "Oakheart, I thought you had more sense than that!"

Oakheart flattened his ears.

"It wasn't an alliance," Tinyclaw insisted. "They were just escorting us back home!"

"Does RiverClan know that?" Bluefur snapped. "Did you have time to tell them before they attacked you?"

Shoulder fur bristling, Tinyclaw snapped back, "RiverClan agreed to bring back WindClan at the Gathering! They had no business stopping us!"

Bluefur lashed her tail, scattering sand. "You daft fool!" she spat. "They never agreed to let you trespass in their territory! How do you _still_ not understand these things?"

Tinyclaw pulled back, stung.

"Enough!" Tigerstar growled. All eyes turned to the ThunderClan leader. The massive tom was on his paws, tail lashing as his amber eyes glared at the cats before him. "It was a mistake – but you are all at fault here."

His voice was calm as he went on, narrowing his eyes at Bluefur. "Yes, they should not have gone through RiverClan territory – but I told you expressly that you are not in any condition to be fighting, Bluefur."

Bluefur flattened her ears and meowed, "I -"

"I understand why you fought," Tigerstar growled, "but you are not to do so again – understand me? After this meeting you are to go directly to Yellowfang – no excuses. You're lucky those warriors didn't hurt you."

Tigerstar swung his head to the other three cats before him. Bluefur's jaws were clamped shut, her blue eyes burning with frustration. She said nothing. Tigerstar said to the others, "It was a mistake, what you did – but you brought WindClan home."

Tinyclaw searched for reproach or anger in Tigerstar's gaze, but found only concern. The massive tabby went on, "We must now begin preparations for an attack by RiverClan or ShadowClan – or both. The future would have been this uncertain, whether Whiteclaw had died or not. We still need more warriors. I want you – Tinyclaw and you, too, Graystripe – to each take an apprentice."

Stunned, Tinyclaw searched for words. He was shocked that Tigerstar had suggested it – especially after what had just happened between them and WindClan. Bluefur sat rigid as a rock, her eyes narrowed in frustration.

Graystripe spoke up, for the first time in what felt like ages. "Frostfur's kits are about six moons, yeah; but aren't they ill?" he wondered.

Tigerstar blinked. "Thornkit and Swiftkit are, unfortunately, ill, yes – but her other two kits have not yet caught it, and Frostfur fears that they might," he replied. "The divisions at the last Gathering had been bothering me, and now…"

He trailed off, and with good reason. What had happened today did not need to be retread.

"I think it would be better to ask a more experienced warrior to take on an apprentice, Tigerstar," Bluefur offered, her eyes hard. "Oakheart, perhaps, or Willowpelt."

"I considered that," Tigerstar admitted. "But Oakheart will be busy enough taking on deputy duties with Whitestorm once you move into the nursery, and Willowpelt declined – she feels she is too close to the kits in the nursery to train them properly."

"Runningwind, then? Or Mousefur?" Bluefur offered.

Tinyclaw frowned. _I get it,_ he growled inwardly. _You don't think we – you don't think _I_ – can do it._ Oh, how he would show her.

"They are both fine hunters and loyal warriors," Tigerstar went on, "but Runningwind hasn't the patience for an apprentice, and I have another apprentice in mind for Mousefur."

"So these are your best options?" Bluefur growled.

"Enough, Bluefur," Tigerstar snapped. "These two are good warriors, and have proven their loyalty to ThunderClan over and over again. They are new warriors, of course, but they helped bring WindClan home – and, of course, I will be relying on you to oversee the training."

Bluefur shut her jaws. Tigerstar looked to the returned warriors and meowed, "Gets some rest, all three of you – and something to eat. The naming ceremony will be at moonhigh."

They were clearly dismissed. Oakheart led Tinyclaw and Graystripe out of the den, leaving Bluefur with Tigerstar.

Oakheart took a deep breath. The rain had eased into a drizzle, and it looked to stop soon enough. "I'm starving," the older warrior decided. "I'm sure you two are, too?"

Tinyclaw nodded, but Graystripe was silent. Oakheart didn't say anything about that.

"Come on then," Oakheart said. He flicked his tail to the fresh-kill pile. "I don't know about you, but that big squirrel at the top looks fabulous."

"You can have it," Tinyclaw said. "I want that mouse."

Both warriors looked at Graystripe. The gray warrior was looking at his paws. He muttered, "I just want to sleep."

"Go on, then," Tinyclaw offered. "You can eat later."

Graystripe slunk away, towards the warrior's den. Tinyclaw frowned, wondering if Graystripe was ever going to feel all right again. Oakheart nudged him.

"Give him time," Oakheart offered. "Let's eat."

Tinyclaw nodded and followed Oakheart to the fresh-kill pile. They each grabbed a piece of prey and settled down to eat in the shade of the warrior's den. Once they were finished, they shared tongues briefly, drying off each other's pelts before returning to their nests.

Graystripe was already asleep, nose tucked behind his fluffy tail. Tinyclaw settled beside him, eyes heavy and limbs aching. He closed his eyes and fell into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

><p>It was Willowpelt who woke Tinyclaw with a gentle prod. When he opened his eyes, she whispered, "Time for the ceremony."<p>

"Thanks, Willowpelt," Tinyclaw offered. The gray she-cat glanced at her son, her eyes filled with sympathy, before padding away.

Tinyclaw stretched, and then nudged Graystripe. He hissed, "Ceremony!" and Graystripe's eyes flickered open.

While excitement tingled at Tinyclaw's toes – he was about to become a _mentor!_ – Graystripe uncurled from his nest like an elder. Watching him, Tinyclaw suddenly recalled their long journey, and his limbs ached once more.

The excitement returned as they padded out into the clearing, though. Tinyclaw's tail twitched as he saw all of the cats gathered beneath the Highrock. Tigerstar stood at the peak of the Highrock, his amber eyes gleaming and his pelt glowing in the moonlight.

Tinyclaw's pelt felt comfortably cool – the rain had stopped but the breeze was still chilly, bringing the scent of leaf-bare as the two warriors padded to join their Clan.

"Hey!" called Halftail, making Tinyclaw jump. The old tom was at the edge of the crowd. "Well done bringing WindClan home – you'll have to tell us about it sometime."

"We will," Tinyclaw offered. He was surprised at how normal he sounded – the excitement of becoming a mentor was drowning the sorrow over Whiteclaw's death and the trouble it would eventually cause.

He looked through the crowd. Frostfur was waiting there, below the Highrock. Her healthy kits were on either side of her – a smudgy gray she-kit and a golden-brown tom. The gray she-kit shivered and sneezed, and Frostfur hushed her with a lick between her ears.

Excitement made Tinyclaw's fur tingle.

Graystripe didn't seem to be feeling it, though – as they padded up to the front of the crowd, his paws steps were quiet and sad, and his tail was low. No cat seemed offended by this, though – it was as if they understood why Graystripe was so somber.

Tinyclaw lowered his head and murmured to his friend, "It wasn't your fault, Graystripe – Sandpaw nearly fell off, too. It was the worst possible place for an attack."

Graystripe said nothing, but Tinyclaw lifted his head to survey the crowd. He spotted Sandpaw, and he gave her an apologetic smile. He hadn't meant to hurt her feelings – but he couldn't watch her fall to her death.

Sandpaw was sitting with Dustpaw, and at the look Dustpaw leaned in and muttered something to Sandpaw. Sandpaw, however, seemed to be ignoring it – she was staring at Tinyclaw, her eyes wide with… something.

_Is she all right?_ Tinyclaw wondered, lowering his head._ I suppose nearly falling off the gorge would shock me, too._

Tinyclaw turned back to Graystripe. "Tigerstar doesn't think you did it either, Graystripe – he's giving you an apprentice!" he insisted.

Graystripe shook his head and hissed back, "It's only because the Clan needs more warriors. All because I caused a war with RiverClan!"

Tinyclaw blinked, taken aback by the harshness in his friend's mew. Before he could say anything more, Tigerstar's call summoned them to the very front of the crowd.

When they were in their positions, Tigerstar looked across the clearing. "This moonhigh we gather to name two new apprentices," he called. "Come forward, you two."

The gray kit darted forward, speeding from her mother's side and into the clearing. Purrs of amusement rose from the Clan as Frostfur lashed her tail, sighing. The golden-brown tom followed, whiskers twitching at his sister. The gray kit was already wiggling in the clearing before Tinyclaw and Graystripe when her brother joined her.

Tinyclaw watched the kits – they were so different! Which one would be his apprentice? He had a feeling that the gray kitten would be a lot of fun to be around, but a pain to train – while the golden-brown tom seemed more reserved, relaxed, and cool-headed. Which one would he be given?

"From this day forward, until she has earned her warrior name, this apprentice shall be known as Cinderpaw," Tigerstar meowed, looking down at the young gray cat. Cinderpaw stopped her wiggling to gasp at her new name.

"Cinderpaw!" she breathed. "I'm Cinder_paw_ now!"

Frostfur hissed for her kit to be quiet, and Cinderpaw murmured an apology.

"Graystripe," Tigerstar meowed, humor glimmering in his eyes, "you are ready for your first apprentice. You will take on Cinderpaw's training." Tigerstar's eyes rested on Graystripe and he meowed, "Lionheart, our lost friend, was your mentor. I hope that the skills and wisdom he taught you pass on to young Cinderpaw."

Graystripe nodded, stepped forward. "I'll do my best," he promised strongly.

Cinderpaw darted forward and slammed her nose into Graystripe's, her tail bristling with excitement. Graystripe gave a painful gasp, and the Clan chuckled. Cinderpaw murmured an apology and they touched noses again, this time more solemnly. They stood together at the edge of the clearing.

_So that means I'll be getting…_

"Brackenpaw!" Tigerstar called. "This shall be this kit's name, until he completes his training."

_Brackenpaw,_ Tinyclaw finished. Somehow, he had a feeling he'd be given Brackenpaw – he seemed easy to train, while Cinderpaw seemed to be a ball of energy. Perhaps a ball of energy was just what Graystripe needed.

"Tinyclaw, you are ready for your first apprentice," Tigerstar went on. "You will take Brackenpaw under your wing. You are fortunate as well, Tinyclaw – Bluefur, our deputy, was your mentor. I expect you to pass on all the skills and wisdom she gave to you."

"I will," Tinyclaw promised. Deep in his heart, though, he recalled Bluefur's vicious training. Looking at the golden-brown tom before him, he had no doubt that he could handle such training – but Tinyclaw would not teach Brackenpaw _everything_ that Bluefur had taught him.

_I shall not teach you to kill,_ Tinyclaw promised, touching his nose to Brackenpaw's.

The Clan called the names of the apprentice, and the new mentors. The approval in their voices warmed Tinyclaw to the bone, and for a moment it seemed like they all had absolute faith in him – but then his eyes fell upon Bluefur.

Bluefur's eyes narrowed at him, blue flaming slits. _I will be watching you,_ those eyes said.

Tinyclaw narrowed his own eyes back at her. _If you're waiting for me to fail,_ he thought, _you'll have to hold your breath._

_Brackenpaw will be an amazing warrior, and _I'm_ going to take him there…_


	11. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

_Tinyclaw woke to find that Graystripe_ was hunched beside him, stiff like a tense rabbit. His friend's fur was fluffed out from nose to tail. Concerned, Tinyclaw nudged his friend with his nose and mewed, "Graystripe?"

Graystripe jumped.

"Are you OK?" Tinyclaw wondered.

Graystripe sat up straight, drawing a paw over his ear. "Yeah," he replied, his mew light. "It's just getting really cold out."

Tinyclaw opened his jaws. The air tasted sharp and cold, like his tongue had been coated in sparkling frost. From underneath the canopy that sheltered the warrior's den, Tinyclaw could see the camp shimmering before him with a thin layer of frost on the ground. Each blade of grass was tipped with white.

"Won't be long until leaf-bare now," Graystripe meowed, breath puffing out before his nose. "One-eye always said that once the grass starts freezing, the snow isn't far off."

Tinyclaw puffed out his fur. He wasn't looking forward to that. He drew himself up in his nest and licked down his chest fur. Graystripe seemed to be making the effort to sound more cheerful today. "Any plans for Cinderpaw today?" he wondered.

"I was going to show her the territory," Graystripe replied.

"I could bring Brackenpaw," Tinyclaw offered. "They could see the forest together."

Graystripe blinked, looking away from Tinyclaw. "It… It might be better if we travel alone today," he meowed.

Tinyclaw's heart fell. So Graystripe still wasn't feeling his best – that was all right, he supposed. Tinyclaw would give his friend the space he needed. Still, it hurt a little – he had caught his first glimpse of the forest with Graystripe, when he was first made an apprentice. He had hoped that they could show Cinderpaw and Brackenpaw the world beyond their camp together.

"Fine," Tinyclaw decided, trying to not sound hurt. "We'll meet up later – share a mouse and compare apprentices."

"Sure," Graystripe agreed.

Tinyclaw slipped out of the warrior's den. The ground felt like cold, solid stone beneath his paws as he stretched, one leg at a time. His breath puffed and swirled before his nose, and Tinyclaw wondered when the sun would come out from behind those dark gray clouds.

The grass crackled beneath his paws as he made his way over to the apprentice's den. Brackenpaw was curled up beside his sister, a golden-brown lump in the den. His flanks rose and fell as he slept. Tinyclaw reached in and prodded Brackenpaw gently.

"Brackenpaw," he called.

Brackenpaw woke quickly, but not so quickly as to shock Tinyclaw. His eyes opened, and he yawned. It took him a moment to get a grip on his surroundings, but he spotted Tinyclaw and his eyes brightened. Brackenpaw padded out of the apprentice's den without waking his sister.

"Good morning," Brackenpaw meowed. "Did I sleep in?"

Tinyclaw shook his head.

Brackenpaw licked down his chest fur and then asked, "What are we doing today?"

"I thought I'd take you on a tour of ThunderClan territory," Tinyclaw replied. "How's that sound?"

"Great!" Brackenpaw agreed. He stood up and raised his tail. Then, the tip of his tail lowered. "Will we… be seeing the Thunderpath?"

Tinyclaw frowned. "Yes, I suppose," he replied.

"I hear it stinks," Brackenpaw sighed.

"It does," Tinyclaw confirmed.

Brackenpaw looked back at his sister. "Cinderpaw really wants to see it," he meowed. "I hope she doesn't get too disappointed."

"You can talk about it later," Tinyclaw told his apprentice. "Are you hungry?"

Brackenpaw shook his head.

"Later, then," Tinyclaw decided. He raised his tail and meowed, "Follow me!"

A feeling of pride swept away his worry for Graystripe as Brackenpaw followed him out of the thorn tunnel. The feeling of having an apprentice following him, listening to his every word… it was amazing! Tinyclaw wondered if cats who had had more than one apprentice still felt this way as they showed their newest students around.

Tinyclaw led the way up the ravine, pausing now and again to make sure Brackenpaw was keeping up – the stony path could wear out even the most energetic of apprentices. Brackenpaw was doing fine, however, his face screwed up in thoughtful concentration as he scrambled up the rocks. He was panting when he reached the top, but his eyes sparkled with triumph.

"Wow," he breathed. He lifted his head, his eyes scanning the treetops. "The trees are so beautiful… they look like they're made of moonstone!"

Tinyclaw twitched his whiskers. His first view of the forest from the top of the ravine had been in newleaf, with every tree heavy with green leaves. He had never seen the trees like this, though – each one sparkled with white frost, twitching as the chilly breeze tickled through the air. He could see the paths that ThunderClan warriors walked clearly from here, and he traced an ideal path for them t walk.

"Which way now?" Brackenpaw wondered, breath puffing before his nose.

"Follow me," Tinyclaw meowed. He looked at Brackenpaw, still puffing, and added, "Conserve your energy – we've got a long way to go."

Brackenpaw nodded, eyes sparkling with determination.

Tinyclaw couldn't help but smile as he turned away. Brackenpaw was already proving to be an easygoing apprentice. Training him would be easy! Hopefully Graystripe would have the same luck with Cinderpaw.

He led the way along the ravine into the sandy hollow where he had spent his apprentice days training with Bluefur. As he stepped into the hollow, he frowned – memories of his last training session with the blue-furred deputy ran through his mind, and he shivered.

Daylight streamed onto the frozen red earth as they padded into the center of the hollow. During greenleaf, the trees kept out most of the sunlight, making it a nice shady spot for training. The warmth had even loosed a small stream, the same one where Tinyclaw had caught his first mouse.

"This is where we'll be doing most of our training," Tinyclaw meowed. "This is the sandy hollow."

Brackenpaw drank it in, his eyes wide. "Did Bluefur train you here?" he asked.

Tinyclaw suppressed a flinch, knowing that Brackenpaw knew Bluefur as a loyal deputy and great warrior – he had no idea what dangerous and deadly moves that she had impressed upon Tinyclaw… nor did he knew about her vicious training methods.

"Yes," he replied, "she did."

"Wow," was all Brackenpaw said in reply.

"There's a stream up the rise there," Tinyclaw meowed, nodding in the direction of the stream. "It runs during newleaf and greenleaf, but it's dry now. I caught my first prey there."

Brackenpaw nodded, absorbing the information silently. He looked as if he wanted to ask questions, but he seemed nervous. Tinyclaw swallowed – perhaps having such a quiet apprentice wasn't a good thing?

"Anyway," he continued awkwardly. "You won't catch much there now but fish… and I'd leave that to RiverClan."

Brackenpaw's whiskers twitched in amusement.

"Let's head to the Owl Tree next," Tinyclaw suggested, recalling his own favorite routes through the forest.

Tail up, he led the way across the frosted ground. Brackenpaw was keeping up, a pace behind, his kit-soft fur fluffed up against the cold. Tinyclaw pushed through tall, crisp, ferns, leading the way to a leaf-strewn clearing. The Owl Tree stood up high and tall in the center, its branches touching the sky.

"Wow," Brackenpaw mewed, tipping his head back. Growing dizzy, he looked back at Tinyclaw. "Does… Does an owl _really_ live in the tree?"

Tinyclaw nodded. He gestured with his tail. "Can you see the hole up the trunk? The owl nests there," he meowed.

Brackenpaw narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure?" he wondered.

Tinyclaw blinked. He hadn't expected Brackenpaw to question him – however, he knew how to answer the apprentice's question and, unfortunately, it was thanks to Bluefur. He pushed at the leaves strewn over the ground with his paws.

"Try burrowing under the leaves," Tinyclaw meowed. Quickly, he warned, "Don't use your mouth!"

Brackenpaw nodded and rooted about in the leaves with his paws, shuffling around. The crackled and snapped around the golden-brown apprentice as he searched. Finally, Brackenpaw took a sniff and drew his nose up, curling his lip.

"Ugh!" he spat. "Something smells like crow-food!"

Tinyclaw padded forward and glanced into the hole Brackenpaw had made. Reaching in with a paw, he pushed forward a large pod the size of a pinecone out into the open.

"What you smell is this, Brackenpaw," he meowed. "This is an owl pod. Owls eat much of the same prey as we do, but they can't digest the bones and fur so their bellies roll it all up into this pod and then they vomit it up. If you find one of these under a tree, then you've found an owl."

Brackenpaw wrinkled his nose. "Did Bluefur teach you that?" he wondered.

Tinyclaw nodded. _Though, she tricked me into nearly eating the pod…_ He shivered at the memory. Tinyclaw buried the pod beneath the leaves again, grateful as the air began to clear up.

"But… why would you want to find an owl in the first place?" Brackenpaw wondered. "They carry off cats!"

"Owls get a really good look at the woods, a look that we can't get ourselves," Tinyclaw replied. "On nights when it's hard to hunt due to wind or other factors, you can look for owls and watch where they go."

Brackenpaw blinked, listening quietly. Then, he mentioned, "Dappletail once told me a story of an old ThunderClan leader who used owls to hunt. It sounded so strange at first, but now I can see that it might be the truth after all."

Tinyclaw nodded. "Come on," he meowed. "There's still so much more to see!"

Brackenpaw got to his paws, and Tinyclaw led them away from the Owl Tree and through the forest. They crossed a Twoleg path and a frozen stream as the sun rose up into the pale sky, pushing away the gray morning-clouds. A huge sycamore tree rose up from the earth in their path, its branches reaching across the sky for forever.

"What's this?" Brackenpaw wondered. "It's bigger than the Owl Tree!"

"This is the Great Sycamore," Tinyclaw meowed. "This tree is so old, Smallear claims to have been able to climb to its very top when he was an apprentice!"

Brackenpaw's tail twitched. Then, he chuckled, "It was probably a sapling then!"

Tinyclaw purred in amusement. So he did have a sense of humor! Tinyclaw told his apprentice, "We'll be coming here to learn how to climb trees – the Great Sycamore is very sturdy, and its borne the weight of many ThunderClan apprentices."

"I can't wait!" Brackenpaw mewed, eyes lighting up. He looked about, then he asked, staring into a deeper part of the forest, "What's over there?"

"That's Snakerocks," Tinyclaw meowed. "Adders make their home there, and a bite from one of them could kill a cat your size." Inwardly, he reflected that Brackenpaw really wasn't much bigger than Tinyclaw himself. "We'll be avoiding that for now, until the snakes are hibernating. We'll be looking at the Thunderpath next."

"Alright," Brackenpaw agreed. He didn't seem eager to disobey his mentor, or get tangled up with adders.

Tinyclaw nodded, grateful that he wasn't shooting off in any direction he pleased. Tinyclaw led the way past the Great Sycamore and further, deeper into the woods. He kept Brackenpaw on a path that skirted around Snakerocks – though when they saw the pale stones rising up through the trees, Tinyclaw pointed them out to Brackenpaw, making sure to impress that he wasn't to go there without supervision.

The trees began thinning out all around them, and Tinyclaw could smell the Thunderpath looming ahead. He wrinkled his nose – but he found that, after his journey to find WindClan, the smell wasn't as bad as it had been before.

Tinyclaw kept one eye on Brackenpaw as they emerged from the forest. Brackenpaw shivered, and Tinyclaw could feel the ground rumbling beneath his paws as a monster approached. The Thunderpath stretched out before them, wide and gray and stinky. Brackenpaw curled his tail at the stench.

"Keep close," Tinyclaw called, seeing Brackenpaw take a paw step forward. "There's a monster coming."

"A monster?" Brackenpaw wondered. "What's a -"

His question was cut off by the answer – a monster roared past, buffeting both cats with the wind it kicked up. The cold air swirled around them while the ground thundered beneath their paws. Brackenpaw's claws were dug deep into the ground in shock.

"It's gone," Tinyclaw meowed. "It's all right – yes, that was a monster. They don't normally leave the Thunderpath, but they need to be looked out for." He didn't want to think of what might happen if Brackenpaw tried crossing a Thunderpath without looking for one of those deadly monstrosities. "While the air is settling, take a whiff – is there anything you can smell besides the Thunderpath?"

Brackenpaw gradually lost his stiffness. He opened his jaws and then closed them, his tail bristling. "ShadowClan," he meowed. "I know it – it was on Thornkit and Swiftkit when they were brought back to camp."

Tinyclaw nodded, recalling that Thornkit and Swiftkit were Cinderpaw's and Brackenpaw's littermates. They were ill, which was why they hadn't been apprenticed the same time as their kin.

"Thank you for saving them," Brackenpaw offered. "That was very brave. Cinderpaw and I were very worried about our brothers."

"They'll be training with you in no time," Tinyclaw assured him with a flick of his tail. He glanced over the Thunderpath, feeling his pelt prickle at the thought of being so close to another Clan's territory. "Let's get going."

"Where to now?" Brackenpaw wondered, as they got to their paws again.

Tinyclaw led Brackenpaw into the trees again, well away from the Thunderpath. He laid his paws down on the path to their next destination, replying over his shoulder, "Tallpines. One of our borders is there, and it's a route that will take us back to camp."

"Isn't Tallpines close to… to the Twolegplace?" Brackenpaw asked hesitantly.

"Yes, it is," Tinyclaw replied, his fur ruffling a little as he anticipated Brackenpaw's next question.

"Weren't you born there?"

There was no hostility in his apprentice's question, unlike the accusations thrown at him from the WindClan apprentices that had reminded him of the barbed comments by his Clanmates. Tinyclaw flattened his fur – he couldn't snap at his own apprentice, especially when he was just wondering something.

"Yes, I was," Tinyclaw meowed. "But I'm a ThunderClan warrior now."

"I'm glad," Brackenpaw meowed. "Without you, my littermates might not have come back."

"It… It wasn't just me, you know," Tinyclaw told him bashfully. "It was mostly Whitestorm's idea."

"But you believed in Yellowfang," Brackenpaw insisted. "And Whitestorm believed in you. Frostfur told us all about it – I don't care that you were a kittypet, Tinyclaw; you're a great warrior, and I'm proud to have you as my mentor."

Fur burning, Tinyclaw hadn't any idea of how to reply. He led the way into Tallpines, keeping Brackenpaw away from Twoleg paths.

"Twolegs come here often with their dogs," he warned. "Keep a sharp eye out."

The scents of Twolegplace wafted through the Tallpines, making Tinyclaw's pelt prickle. Perhaps taking the long way home wasn't the best idea? The air stirred up memories of warmth and safety in his old home, surrounded by strange Twoleg objects – never having to look far for a meal, or someplace warm to sleep.

Tinyclaw shook it off. That wasn't his life anymore, and he couldn't want anything more than being a Clan cat.

"Look!" Brackenpaw hissed.

Tinyclaw halted. Brackenpaw pointed with his nose to a long-furred white she-cat padding through the trees. She wasn't facing them, and it seemed like she was distracted.

"A kittypet!" Brackenpaw breathed, as if he had seen some sort of exotic prey.

"Hush!" Tinyclaw hissed.

Brackenpaw nodded, and Tinyclaw peered closer at the she-cat. As the kittypet moved, her long fur swished against her kit-swollen belly. Her steps were heavy and clumsy in the woods, and her scent was warm and milky. He breathed it in, confused at what he tasted.

_She's a stranger on our territory, so why don't I feel the urge to chase her?_ Tinyclaw wondered.

The kittypet's collar jingled gently as she moved, advancing slowly into the Tallpines.

"We should chase her off," Brackenpaw suggested. "This is our territory, isn't it?"

Tinyclaw couldn't take his eyes off of the kittypet, but he found himself unable to reply. There was something about her… something _familiar_…

Brackenpaw took a step towards the she-cat, his body lowered in a crouch. Alarmed, Tinyclaw surged forward and slammed his paws down on a brittle stick, snapping it in two. He looked up just in time to see the she-cat lift her head, her blue eyes round with shock, before she shot off, back towards Twolegplace.

"Sorry!" Brackenpaw puffed, eyes wide. "Was… was I not supposed to do that?"

Tinyclaw looked back at Brackenpaw. He couldn't bring himself to chastise his apprentice – he was just following the warrior code, after all – but Tinyclaw didn't want the she-cat getting so frightened by a wild cat.

"Why did you do that?" Brackenpaw wondered. Tinyclaw cursed himself inwardly, knowing he ought to have chosen a more discreet way to scare off the kittypet. "Was it because she was a queen?"

"Yes," Tinyclaw replied instantly. "Yes, because she was a queen! It's not nice to try creeping up on a queen. They can't move as fast as we can, and they can't defend themselves like we can. It's… It's dishonorable to attack an enemy who can't attack back!"

If Brackenpaw detected the tremble in Tinyclaw's mew, he had the sense not to call his mentor out on it. The golden-brown tabby shrugged and meowed, "Alright."

"I'm hungry," Tinyclaw decided. "Let's head back to camp."

Brackenpaw nodded in agreement, and Tinyclaw led the way.

Tinyclaw took him through the Tallpines, along a route that allowed him to point out the monster that cut down the trees in greenleaf – the monster's tracks was embedded in the hard mud and easy to spot. They headed on further into the trees, until they began to thicken again with oak and ash and beech. Then Tinyclaw put them on the path towards home, telling Brackenpaw that if he was ever lost he ought to follow the strongest ThunderClan scent and follow it – it would lead to a well-trodden trail that would eventually take him home.

* * *

><p>By the time they arrived back at camp, Tinyclaw's throat was sore and his paws were aching. Brackenpaw was puffing, but he seemed to have absorbed everything that Tinyclaw had taught him. The young apprentice stifled a yawn as he padded to join Cinderpaw at the apprentice's den.<p>

Tinyclaw spotted Graystripe. His friend had prey between his paws, and was beckoning Tinyclaw with his tail. Tinyclaw trotted over and settled down beside his friend.

"Good day?" Tinyclaw asked.

"Better than yesterday," Graystripe replied. He pushed a mouse over to Tinyclaw. "Got you some supper."

Tinyclaw took it between his paws and munched on it gratefully.

"Cinderpaw is really keen, if you know what I mean," Graystripe told him. Tinyclaw's mouth was full of fresh-kill, so he didn't dare comment unless he spilled it all onto the ground. Graystripe went on, "She almost charged right over the WindClan border at Fourtrees, and my jaw hurts from answering so many of her questions!"

"Brackenpaw is a lot calmer from the sound of it," Tinyclaw pointed out after swallowing. "He hardly took a step without my say-so!"

Graystripe sighed wistfully and meowed, "Cinderpaw made me forget that I'm the mentor and she's the apprentice, what with all her energy! She was practically leading _me_ around."

Tinyclaw purred. "She sounds energetic!" he chuckled. _Hopefully she helps pull you out of this mood of yours!_

* * *

><p>They shared tongues until the moon rose. A fresh layer of frost creeping onto the grass drove them into their nests, where they finally curled up in the warmth of the other warriors. Pressed together, Tinyclaw felt Graystripe fall asleep almost instantly.<p>

Strangely enough, through the warm smells of ThunderClan, Tinyclaw still had the milk scent of the kittypet she-cat in his nostrils. As much as he tried to get it out, it wouldn't leave – the warm smell was bringing back memories of his time in Twolegplace, curled up with his kin.

Then his head shot up with realization.

"Rusty!" he murmured, as quietly as he could manage.

The white kittypet had the smell of his half-brother on her fur!


	12. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

_Tinyclaw woke at dawn, the image_ of his brother and the white she-cat fresh in his mind. Hoping the routine of the day would distract him, he pushed his way out of the warrior's den and into the cold, frosty morning. In the center of camp, Bluefur sat uncomfortably with her belly bulging out as she organized patrols. Whitestorm meowed a greeting as he headed off with Sandpaw and Longtail for a patrol. Mousefur and Runningwind looked ready to get on with hunting, and Darkstripe and Dustpaw joined them.

Blinking at them all, Tinyclaw wondered what he ought to do – but for some reason, he felt out of place. Unsettled. There was a feeling in him that he didn't know, and it was holding him back from joining at patrol.

_Brackenpaw might be awake,_ he thought. _Bluefur can't get mad at me for training my apprentice._

Tinyclaw passed the nursery on his way to check on his apprentice. He paused, seeing the bramble twitching. Brindleface, a pretty flecked tabby queen, padded out from the nursery. Her kits scrambled out after her – each one marked rather like their mother, with only one having far darker flecks than the others.

The last kit tumbled and fell to the ground, wailing. Brindleface, calm and cool, picked up the kit gently by its scruff and set it back down on its paws, murmuring gently to it to calm it down. She gave the kit a lick, then swept the rest about with her tail. She nodded to Tinyclaw before moving herself and her kits out of the way, leading them towards the elder's den.

Tinyclaw watched them go, his paws rooted to the cold ground. Brindleface's fourth kit had died soon after it was born, and he knew that the queen loved those that remained much more fiercely.

He watched the Clan cats go about their day, and suddenly he realized what that feeling he didn't know was – it was _envy._

_They all have something or someone tying them here,_ Tinyclaw realized. _All these cats… their blood goes back to the beginning of ThunderClan itself. Their roots in this forest run as deep as the Great Sycamore._

_And me… I'm just a kittypet. No cat understands that. No other cat here was ever a kittypet,_ Tinyclaw thought sorrowfully. _I'd die to protect these cats – this is my home, where I belong – but none of them will ever understand what it's like to be looked at differently; to be looked down on because they weren't Clanborn._

Tinyclaw was beginning to feel suffocated by loneliness – the feeling surrounded him like the dark tunnel into the Moonstone cavern, or the Twoleg-built tunnels beneath the Thunderpaths. His fur fluffed anxiously with the desire to talk to a cat and be _understood_.

"You seem to be thinking about something pretty intensely," Graystripe meowed. His friend's mew broke Tinyclaw out of his thoughts.

Tinyclaw blinked at his friend. Then, he touched Graystripe's nose with his own in greeting. "Can you take Brackenpaw today?" he asked.

Graystripe wondered, "Why?"

"There's something I want to check out," Tinyclaw meowed. "Nothing dangerous – just something I spotted yesterday." He didn't want to give too much away about the white she-cat – he had a feeling deep within that Brackenpaw wouldn't tell. "Brackenpaw's pretty mindful of where he is, but don't let him go off on his own, OK? He still doesn't have a good grasp of the territory."

Graystripe puffed out his fur. "Neither does Cinderpaw!" he pointed out. "But maybe Brackenpaw can mellow her out a little. He doesn't go barging off into who-knows-where without looking where he's going, does he?"

Tinyclaw shook his head, and felt a pang of amusement for Graystripe. Cinderpaw sounded rather lively!

He touched his nose to his friend's again, and then meowed, "Thanks, Graystripe – I'll be back before sunset."

His paws light, Tinyclaw headed off for the thorn tunnel without bothering to tell Graystripe where he was headed. Pushing out into the forest, Tinyclaw reflected, _It would only cause trouble if he knew. He'd ask too many questions… and he might think I wasn't being loyal to the Clan._

* * *

><p>Tinyclaw set a brisk pace through the forest, heading for Tallpines and Twolegplace. Without other places to visit, the Twolegplace came into view far quicker than it had the day before. When the Twoleg dens rose up in the distance, Tinyclaw slowed to a cautious walk – there was no sign of any patrols or hunting parties, and nothing dangerous was around.<p>

Still, he proceeded with caution. He walked along a Twoleg fence, feeling the wood brush his fur. He knew from kithood that there was a yard or two with dogs around this area, and he kept himself scarce. Opening his jaws, Tinyclaw searched for the white she-cat's scent.

_If I find her,_ he thought, _I might be able to see Rusty again!_ The thought of seeing his half-brother made Tinyclaw's step quicken. He hadn't seen his brother since he'd left the Twolegplace, and the only mention of him that Tinyclaw had had since was from when he ran into Smudge during a hunting assessment.

According to his old kittypet friend, Rusty was doing fine – and he had even taken a mate! _That white kittypet had Rusty's scent on her, and she was pregnant… maybe those kits are Rusty's?_

The thought spurred him on. The kittypet couldn't live too far away – comfy kittypets didn't often wander far from their homes, and that she-cat had looked rather comfy. He caught her scent amongst the Twoleg smells.

Tinyclaw leaped onto the fence as the kittypet's scent grew stronger, creeping cautiously along until he came to a rather open yard. He settled himself on the post and observed – there was a door with a cat-flap that led into a grassy track with several Twoleg-made gardens of bushes and flowers. There were two trees, each sparkling with frost.

_She must live here,_ he thought. He could smell her scent everywhere. Looking up, he realized it was still early morning – the sun had barely warmed the earth. Tinyclaw leaped into the branches of the nearest tree, thankful his pelt was dark enough to disguise him. He pressed close to the tree, eyes fixed on the cat-flap.

The sun arced in the sky, its weak rays soaking into Tinyclaw's pelt as it highlighted the Twolegplace. The breeze grew a bit warmer, and leaves scattered about in piles. Licking a damp paw, Tinyclaw wondered if the kittypet's Twolegs were going to keep her inside – she was, after all, close to kitting. Clan queens didn't stay far from the nursery when their bellies hung so low.

As he was about to give up and head back home, there was a loud clatter. He looked at the cat-flap, seeing the white she-cat squeezing out with a little difficulty. As the white kittypet padded out into the garden, unaware of Tinyclaw's presence, Tinyclaw kept himself low and quiet – he didn't want to frighten her before he had a chance to talk to her.

The kittypet wandered to the edge of the garden, pausing to smell one of the dying plants. Tinyclaw quietly leaped down from the branch, landing silently on his paws. He moved to hid in the bushes.

"I can smell you, you know."

Tinyclaw paused mid-step. The white she-cat was facing him, her blue eyes burning. The fur along her spine was bristling as she glared at him. Tinyclaw couldn't help but be impressed by her bravery, and the fact that she could smell him over all the Twoleg stenches without Clan training.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my garden?"

"I…" Tinyclaw fumbled for words. He knew how he must look to her – lean, hungry, wild from ears to tail. How was he going to convince her that he wasn't a threat? "I'm not here to hurt you – my name's Tinyclaw. I'm from the forest."

The she-cat frowned, her eyes flashing.

"Tinyclaw, you say?" she asked.

Tinyclaw nodded. He held out his white paw to her, claws sheathed. "I come in peace; really, I do," he expressed.

She flicked her tail. Then, she settled down into a sitting position. Her belly bulged – she was bigger than Bluefur was. Then, she said, "I'm Fiona."

_Fiona?_ Tinyclaw didn't recall ever hearing that name – and Rusty had talked a lot about the she-cats who followed him around.

"I'm looking for a cat named Rusty," Tinyclaw told her. "You were in the forest yesterday – my apprentice and I spotted you, and I smelled his scent. I was wondering if you knew where he was."

Fiona flicked an ear. "Rusty isn't around right now," she said. "He's off wandering on the other side of the Twolegplace, and I don't know where he goes." Her eyes, blue as the sky, narrowed. "Why do _you_ care about where Rusty is?"

"He's my brother," Tinyclaw replied. _I might as well be honest with her._ "Well, half-brother, really."

Fiona's eyes widened, and her tail fluffed out into a puffy cloud of fur.

Suddenly, she mewed, "Shoe!"

Tinyclaw blinked. It took him a moment to recognize his kittypet name. "Yes!" he said, hope rising in his chest. Rusty had told her about him! "That's me – I was Shoe, but my name is Tinyclaw now."

Fiona looked him over. "Oh, you poor thing!" she fretted. "You're so thin and small – are you getting enough to eat out there, in the woods?"

Tinyclaw replied, "I'm fit enough for a forest – _Clan,_ cat… and yes, I'm fine." He hoped his empty belly wouldn't betray him. "So you… you must be Rusty's…"

"Mate?" Fiona finished. "Yes, I am."

"And this is your first litter?"

Fiona nodded. "Yes," she replied fondly. "I'm nervous, but Princess and Nutmeg assured me I would be fine."

Tinyclaw blinked at the names. Suddenly it all came flooding back – Nutmeg was Rusty's mother, and Princess was his sister. Tinyclaw had met Princess once or twice, but he'd never seen his father's first mate. His litter's mother and Nutmeg hadn't gotten along well.

"Princess has had kits?" Tinyclaw guessed.

Fiona nodded. "I've met them – so tiny, but with really sharp claws!" she purred. "I hope my own kits behave as well as hers do."

Recalling the kittings in ThunderClan, and how they could go wrong, Tinyclaw offered, "You'll be fine. You look like your Twolegs treat you very well."

Fiona looked at him gratefully, swishing her tail.

Tinyclaw felt a rush of warmth from looking at this she-cat – a feeling he didn't get from any other cat in the Clan. Rusty's mate was part of his family – his kin. Tinyclaw's own brother and sister hadn't been the nicest, from what he could recall, and he couldn't help but wish that someone like Fiona had been his own blood kin.

_The kits, though,_ he thought. _Those will be my kin by blood, even if Rusty and I only share a father._

"Do you know about the Clans?" Tinyclaw wondered.

Fiona blinked. "I've heard a thing or two," she admitted. "Rusty told me his brother went to live with the Clans in the forest… Smudge mentioned you, but by a different name. Other than the usual stories – you ought to recall those – I don't really know much."

Tinyclaw recalled with a bit of amusement the stories kittypets told of the Clans – that they were savages who ate bones and even other cats.

"There are four Clans in the forest," he told her. Fiona's eyes brightened with interest. "ThunderClan, ShadowClan, WindClan, and RiverClan – I live with ThunderClan in the forest on this side of the Thunderpath. I…"

He went on and on, describing Clan life to Fiona. He could feel his voice rising with excitement as he went on, telling her about his apprentice training and the battle with ShadowClan. When he talked about Lionheart's death, Fiona seemed a little unsettled, but she brightened again as he spoke about Yellowfang and how much he cared about the old she-cat. He even mentioned Sandpaw, though he hoped he wasn't too obvious about his crush on her.

"Now… I have an apprentice of my own," he told her. "Brackenpaw. He's really thoughtful, but he's going to be a great warrior."

Fiona gave him a smile. "I'm sure he will be," she mewed. "You really seem to love your life in the forest."

"I do," Tinyclaw assured her. "I don't regret leaving at all."

Fiona's whiskers twitched, and she shifted on her paws. "I'm glad," she said.

A voice called from within the Twoleg den. Fiona flinched at it, as if Tinyclaw's words had taken her to another world. Tinyclaw started himself at the noise, and backed away from the nest preemptively, just in case a Twoleg came charging out.

"I ought to get going," Fiona told him. "I've many tiny mouths to feed, and they're squirming about inside me."

"That's all right," Tinyclaw assured her. "I need to get home, too."

Fiona nodded to him. "I'll tell Rusty I saw you the next time I see him…" She paused, and then said, "Perhaps you'd like to come by again? I might be able to get Rusty to stick around, and the kits… I'd love for them to know you."

"I'd like that," Tinyclaw meowed gratefully.

"Good-bye," Fiona offered. "Safe travel!"

"I'll see you soon!" Tinyclaw promised.

He turned and leaped into the tree. He watched Fiona enter her den safely before he followed the branches to the fence. He hopped onto the fence, then onto the ground. Paws light, Tinyclaw rushed into the forest.

The talk with Fiona had energized him, making him feel more assured of his place in the woods than before, knowing that kin wasn't far away. He did not long for the Twolegplace, but it was nice to have company that shared his roots.

_And the kits!_ Tinyclaw couldn't wait to meet them – their mother was beautiful in her own way, and Rusty was lucky to have her. The kits would be everything like their parents, he was sure.

He reached the ravine, listening to the sounds of the camp from down below. He angled his ears, feeling the chill reach into his paws as he waited. His stomach growled, bringing his thoughts back to reality.

_I can't go back with nothing,_ he thought. _I'll hunt… then no cat can complain about me not being around._

Tinyclaw turned back into the forest, tail high. Brackenpaw would be safe with Graystripe a little while longer.

* * *

><p>The sun was setting when Tinyclaw returned to camp – dangling from his jaws by their tails were two mice, and was doing his best to balance a wood pigeon he had managed to catch with a great leap. The Clan was gathering for their evening meal as Tinyclaw placed his catch on the fresh-kill pile.<p>

_Ow,_ he thought, flexing his jaw. _That's the last time I try hauling back so much prey at once…_

He glanced at the apprentice's den. Brackenpaw and Cinderpaw were sharing a shrew. Cinderpaw's mouth didn't seem to ever shut, but Brackenpaw regarded what she was saying with patience. Graystripe was just at the other side of camp, sitting before the warrior's den. He was eating a chaffinch, and he paused in his eating to spot Tinyclaw.

Bluefur's approach, her blue eyes narrowed, made Tinyclaw shiver a little. What could have possibly gotten under her fur now?

"Brackenpaw spent the day with Graystripe, and you were gone all day," she said evenly, though her eyes betrayed her anger. "Why?"

"It seemed like too good of a day for hunting," Tinyclaw told her. He had thought of an excuse while he'd been out – just in case some cat had asked. He wasn't going to let Bluefur think that she could scare him. "Brackenpaw doesn't know how to hunt properly yet – I felt like I would bring back more prey without him."

"It's your job to teach him," Bluefur countered.

"The Clan need fresh-kill."

"It also needs warriors," Bluefur growled. "Brackenpaw's training is _your_ responsibility, not Graystripe's."

Tinyclaw narrowed his eyes, his gaze boring into hers, blue to blue. Tinyclaw meowed, "I'll take him out tomorrow."

"See that you do," Bluefur grunted.

She turned away and padded towards the Highrock. Tinyclaw picked up a mouse and headed over to Graystripe. He did his best to keep his fur flat despite his irritation at Bluefur._ If she found out where I was, she'd shred me!_

"Find what you were looking for?" Graystripe asked as Tinyclaw settled down. His voice sounded so… far away. Absent. Tinyclaw felt a pang of sorrow.

"Yes," Tinyclaw meowed. He nudged his mouse a little, then asked quietly, "Are you still thinking about that RiverClan warrior?"

Guilt flickered in Graystripe's eyes. He murmured, "I do try my best not to… But it's really hard. When I'm alone I can't help but remember Barkface's prediction about Whitethroat's death being unnecessary and all the trouble…"

Tinyclaw pressed against him, wishing to StarClan that Graystripe could somehow be unburdened of this.

He pushed his mouse towards Graystripe. "Here, let's swap – that chaffinch will be half-feathers, and I'm not that hungry," he meowed. It was half a lie – he was hungry – but he didn't want Graystripe to have to deal with such a difficult meal when his own thoughts were so dark and dreary.

Graystripe nodded gratefully, and they swapped meals. Tinyclaw began picking apart the chaffinch, removing the feathers. As he did, he glanced around the camp. Everyone was eating and chatting, with tails flicking and whiskers twitching in friendship and camaraderie.

His eyes strayed to the apprentice's den. Dustpaw and Sandpaw were sharing tongues a little further away from the younger apprentices, talking quietly to one another as they groomed. Sandpaw's head moved, and her eyes met Tinyclaw's.

Heat flooded his pelt, and Sandpaw looked away. Tinyclaw cooled down as he looked at Brackenpaw and Cinderpaw, who were sharing tongues as well.

Cinderpaw was fluffing herself up, rising on her hind paws as she talked to Brackenpaw. Her voice was boisterous, but Tinyclaw couldn't hear what she was saying. Then, suddenly, she crashed down onto her brother and the two rolled about on the cold ground in a friendly scuffle.

Tinyclaw's tail twitched. His meeting with Fiona had made his heart light – but suddenly the loneliness and envy he had felt earlier in the morning had returned. He loved his Clan with all his heart, but he realized suddenly that what he wanted more than anything was someone in the Clan that he could call his own kin.

Turning back to his chaffinch, Tinyclaw thought sadly, _That's something that will never happen…_


	13. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

"_This sunshine has been really nice!"_ Graystripe purred.

Tinyclaw nodded in agreement. The past few days had shown the sun breaking in through the cold, warming the earth and melting the frost. Thanks to the pleasant weather, Tinyclaw had been able to see Fiona frequently, slipping out to see her between patrols, hunting, and training sessions with Brackenpaw. Though Rusty was never around when Tinyclaw visited, Fiona was assuring him that she was passing on all of Tinyclaw's greetings and meetings.

Not seeing Rusty didn't seem to depress Tinyclaw, however – just knowing that Fiona was there and his kin, willing to listen as he described his life in the Clan, meant more than Tinyclaw had thought it would. Tinyclaw hadn't felt happier in such a long time… he didn't even realize that he was missing something in the first place!

"I hope it stays clear like this for the rest of leaf-bare," Tinyclaw offered, glancing at Graystripe and his thick gray pelt. "Snow and rain is nothing but trouble."

Graystripe nodded in agreement. Leaves crackled beneath their paws, crispy and dead, as they headed up the ravine and towards the training hollow, tails high and strides confident. They were quiet as they walked, relishing the warmth of the sun on their backs as it shone through the leafless trees.

When they reached the training hollow, they were greeted by leaves spraying into the air. Cinderpaw's pale gray shape was bouncing from leaf-pile to leaf-pile, scattering them with her fluffy paws and tossing them into the air, where she would leap and pluck it out of the air, pinning it to the ground. Brackenpaw was watching his sister carefully, as if he were waiting for her to hurt herself, his tail flicking back and forth.

"At least she'll be warmed up," Graystripe decided.

His voice alerted Brackenpaw. The golden tabby nodded to Graystripe, then turned to Tinyclaw and asked, "What are we doing today?"

"Hunting," Tinyclaw replied.

"Where?" Cinderpaw wondered, coming away from her leaf-piles.

"Sunningrocks," Graystripe replied. "No one's hunted there for a time, so there ought to be something scurrying about."

"Like voles?" Cinderpaw chimed. "I like voles. Can I catch a vole?"

"We'll be catching whatever we can," Tinyclaw told her. "So if you can find a vole, it's all yours to catch – but we're hunting for the elders, so _no_ snacking!"

Cinderpaw flattened her ears. "Of course," she mewed, sounding a little deflated.

"I'm sure if you asked, they'd be happy to share," Graystripe assured her.

Cinderpaw's ears pricked, and she puffed up her chest. Suddenly, leaves scattering under her paws, she was at the edge of the hollow. Tinyclaw was baffled by the fluctuation in her energy – so unlike Brackenpaw!

"It's this way, right?" Cinderpaw asked.

"Quite the opposite, actually," Tinyclaw told her frankly. He headed up the opposite slope, Brackenpaw at his side. Through the trees he could feel the air tugging at his ear fur as it passed through Sunningrocks.

Cinderpaw didn't seem deterred – she charged across the clearing, scattering leaves and sticks alike as they barred her path. She stopped beside Tinyclaw, clawing up some frosty clumps of earth as she fought to reduce her speed.

"Come on, Graystripe – you slow-slug!" Cinderpaw called.

"I'll show _you_ slow-slug!" Graystripe called back. As the leaves fell to the ground all around him, Graystripe gave a fantastic leap. He caught a leaf in his claws and, quick as a flash, had it pinned on the ground.

Cinderpaw's eyes widened, shining in admiration.

Brackenpaw purred, and Tinyclaw twitched his whiskers, an unsettling feeling rising in his stomach. _My mentor was never so lighthearted with me,_ he thought, thinking of Bluefur's stern looks and harsh meow.

He shook it off. "Come on," he told them. "We're wasting this nice day playing with leaves."

Graystripe nodded and took his place beside his apprentice. Tinyclaw led the way through the threes, following the familiar scent trails to Sunningrocks. Brackenpaw stayed at his side, quiet but for the occasional question about what prey would live where. Tinyclaw and Graystripe were happy to answer, teaching the apprentices all about how the squirrels leaped through the trees and the mice burrowed under the leaves.

Thankfully they reached Sunningrocks before Cinderpaw had it in her head to go up a tree looking for squirrels. The sunlight dazzled off of the river that separated ThunderClan territory from RiverClan, and the rocks themselves looked tempting and warm as they rose from the ground to soak up the sunlight.

"Sunningrocks!" Graystripe told the apprentices. "Now, we need to keep our voices down and our steps -"

Before Graystripe could finish, Cinderpaw pressed her paw against the smooth stone ground. She purred and mewed, "So warm! Feel, Brackenpaw!"

Brackenpaw glanced at Tinyclaw, and Tinyclaw hesitated. Bluefur would have chastised him for making such a foolish decision – he was nothing like her. He meowed, "Go ahead; but be quiet."

His apprentice's eyes gleamed, and he stepped forward with his sister. Together, they padded across the rocks, reveling at how warm they felt beneath their paws. Tinyclaw and Graystripe saw no harm in them exploring the bit of territory they would be hunting in – together they padded up one of the bigger, flatter rocks and laid down to observe their apprentices. The sunlight felt pleasant on their pelts and Tinyclaw dared to think that maybe he was getting drowsy.

"Come on up," Graystripe invited. "There are plenty of cold, damp days ahead – make use of the warmth while its here."

The apprentices glanced at one another before shooting up the rock to lay with their mentors. Cinderpaw fluffed out her pelt and stretched out on the rock, taking up more space than Graystripe. Brackenpaw huddled in between Cinderpaw and Tinyclaw, making the space on the rock rather tight even with Tinyclaw's small size.

"The river's so silent!" Cinderpaw breathed, breath puffing out before her muzzle.

"It's frozen," Graystripe told her. "Look."

Cinderpaw did, and she breathed, "Wow!"

Tinyclaw glanced at the river – it was indeed frozen, ice crawling from shore to shore. Beneath the layer of frost, Tinyclaw could see the river bubbling.

"So… this is where Redtail died?" Brackenpaw asked.

Tinyclaw felt his apprentice's eyes burning into him. He turned back to Brackenpaw and answered, "Yes."

"And where Bluefur avenged his death by killing Swiftclaw?" Cinderpaw piped in, excitedly.

Tinyclaw's fur prickled. _It was Bluefur who killed Redtail, not Swiftclaw!_ He thought. But these apprentices didn't know that – they believed Bluefur's tale. Graystripe shot him a warning glance, and Tinyclaw sighed.

"Yes," he answered.

"Wow," Cinderpaw breathed again, her eyes as wide as moons.

Tinyclaw swallowed, uncomfortable. He strained his ears, trying to pick up something – anything – that would distract the apprentices. StarClan seemed to be on his side as he picked up a faint scrabbling not too far off.

"Listen," Tinyclaw hissed.

Both apprentices pricked their ears.

"What can you hear?" Graystripe asked.

"Some scrabbling," Brackenpaw answered. "Coming from a rock near the river."

Tinyclaw nodded in confirmation. "It may be a vole," he replied. "But we can't really tell from just the sound. We'll have to be quiet – these rocks tend to -"

Cinderpaw gave a leap off of the rock, landing just by the rock near the river where the would-be-vole was hiding. Tinyclaw sighed in dismay as the scrabbling suddenly disappeared.

"— _echo_," he finished.

"It's gone, isn't it?" Cinderpaw meowed, looking up at the warriors.

Graystripe only nodded.

Cinderpaw hung her head.

"You'll get the hang of things," Graystripe assured her. "You just need to be _really_ quiet around prey. It requires a lot of planning."

Cinderpaw nodded and padded back up the rock.

When she was settled, Tinyclaw offered, "We'll sit here and listen some more – when you hear something again, try and pinpoint where it is before you go after it. These rocks are really open, so you'll have to be slow and careful with prey here – you need to make them think that your paws sliding across the stone are just the wind."

Cinderpaw and Brackenpaw nodded. All four cats sat atop the stone, listening intently until the sound of their breathing faded away, even. Tinyclaw was focusing intently on sounds near the frozen river, though for a while he didn't hear much – and then, he heard the crackle of a leaf. It happened again. No strong breeze - unnatural.

Tinyclaw rose quietly – when Cinderpaw rose to follow, Graystripe placed a paw firmly on her rump, pushing her down again. Brackenpaw raised his head as Tinyclaw crept off the rock.

He dropped into a hunting crouch, pulling himself forward, towards the rustling noises paw by paw. When he was close enough he sprang and pressed the hiding vole into the earth. To Tinyclaw's dismay, it squealed – he cut off its cry with a bite to the neck.

"Amazing!" Cinderpaw breathed. "I want to do that!"

Tinyclaw held up his catch, his mouth too full of vole to reply without dropping it.

Graystripe was shaking his head. "Not here," he insisted. "Did you hear that squeal? So did everything else around here. We'll need to move on."

"So… we need to catch it before it makes a sound?" Brackenpaw asked.

Tinyclaw nodded, mouth stuffed.

"We'll head into the forest," Graystripe decided. "There'll be more around than just that vole on a warm day like this, that's for sure."

The woods seemed chilly after the open warmth of Sunningrocks, and the cats stuck together as they traveled through the leaves. Even with the dead vole in his mouth, Tinyclaw could smell the fishy stench of RiverClan's scent markers through the trees.

Cinderpaw's nose wrinkled. "Yucky," she growled.

"RiverClan," Brackenpaw said, after a sniff. "It seems a lot fresher than when I smelled it last. Why?"

"The river's frozen," Graystripe told him. "When it's not frozen, the river tends to muddle scents, since water sprays up from the shore and can dilute markers. With the world frozen like this, scents are easier to find."

"Can we see the river?" Cinderpaw wondered. "I want to."

Graystripe glanced at Tinyclaw, who shrugged in reply. He didn't mind them looking at the river – besides, there might be prey there. Graystripe was about to open his jaws to voice his approval, but Cinderpaw had already charged off, scattering leaves behind her as she made a beeline for the river.

"Your sister, I _swear!"_ Graystripe hissed, rolling his eyes. He stomped after Cinderpaw, tail bristling.

Brackenpaw's whiskers twitched. "She's always been like that," he admitted to Tinyclaw, as they followed. "One time she got so excited to see outside she got herself stuck in the gorse tunnel… Frostfur was so mad. Yellowfang was picking out thorns in her pelt for days!"

Tinyclaw tipped his head in confusion – he'd been around since these kits were little, but he didn't remember that.

"It happened while you and Graystripe and Oakheart went to find WindClan," Brackenpaw told him. "We would have seen the forest for the first time if Cinderpaw hadn't run off like that."

Tinyclaw blinked in sympathy. They caught up with Cinderpaw and Graystripe by the edge of the river. It was almost completely frozen, but for a channel near the middle that was still flowing. Little hunks of ice were floating down along from further up the river. It looked cold and uninviting.

"She almost fell in!" Graystripe grumbled to Tinyclaw.

"I said I was sorry!" Cinderpaw sighed.

"You put yourself in danger when you run off like that!" Graystripe told her, hissing. "What could I tell Frostfur if you fell in and we couldn't get you?"

Cinderpaw flattened her ears.

Tinyclaw set down the vole. He offered, touching Graystripe's shoulder with his tail, "She knows, Graystripe. She won't do it again." He knew he feared being at fault for losing another cat – thinking of losing Cinderpaw to the river must have reminded him of Whiteclaw falling into the gorge.

Cinderpaw nodded. "I'll try," she promised. "I'm sorry; I just get so excited sometimes! I can't help it."

Graystripe unbent his spine and sighed. "Well," he decided, "if you promise to try…"

"Tinyclaw!" Brackenpaw hissed. "I hear something!"

The cats went quiet. Tinyclaw strained his ears and picked up the sounds of scuffling near a reed bed on their side of the river. Through the dry, brittle, stems he spotted a water vole, its fat body visible even from this distance.

"I've got it," hissed Graystripe.

Tinyclaw opened his jaws to voice his concern, but the gray warrior was already in position and heading for the plump creature. Worry fluttered in Tinyclaw's heart – the vole was so close to the river! What if he fell in?

The reeds rustled, and Tinyclaw spotted the shape of the water vole darting out onto the ice. At hunting speed, Graystripe followed. Tinyclaw jumped to his paws – but it was too late. As Graystripe had the vole pinned to the ice it cracked beneath his heavy paws and, like a stone, Graystripe sunk.

"_Graystripe!"_ Tinyclaw called, fur bristling.

He stepped out onto the ice – it was cold, slippery, and impossible to run on. Keeping the shore nearby, Tinyclaw followed the big dark shape of Graystripe as he padded down the river.

_He's being carried downstream!_ Tinyclaw thought with dismay. The river eventually led to the gorge, and no cat could survive the battering. Fur bristling, Tinyclaw called again,_ "Graystripe!"_

Graystripe's head broke the surface. He gasped for air, his eyes shut tight as he scrabbled for a pawhold – but the ice was growing further and further away as the river widened around him. Tinyclaw shivered in fear, unsure of what to do – if he fell in, there would be no saving either of them!

"Hang on!"

Tinyclaw's ears pricked. Across the bank, a slender silver tabby was crouched. The reeds around her swayed as she crossed onto the ice, padding assuredly and confidently on the slippery surface. When she was near Graystripe, she slipped into the river with ease.

The she-cat grasped Graystripe's neck fur in her jaws and swam with powerful, churning paws towards Tinyclaw's side of the river. Tinyclaw dug his claws into the ice as he helped her out, pulling at Graystripe with his own teeth. Together, they pulled him onto the bank.

Eyes burning, the she-cat immediately went to work. She ruffled up Graystripe's fur, working at his stomach with confident paws. Tinyclaw was confused about what she was doing, until Graystripe vomited up a mouthful of river water onto the bank.

"Graystripe!" Tinyclaw meowed, urgency in his tone. He was aware of Cinderpaw and Brackenpaw huddled near him.

"I'm fine!" Graystripe coughed. He was breathless, but his mew reassured Tinyclaw.

Tinyclaw sighed with relief, then looked at Graystripe's rescuer. Water streamed from her silver tabby pelt like it was made of duck feathers, and she carried the fishy smell of RiverClan. She was slender and pretty, her markings like swirling rivers. Her eyes, burning blue flames, were narrowed at Graystripe.

"You fish-brain!" she spat. "What were you doing on my territory?"

"Drowning?" Graystripe rasped back, a gleam of amusement in his eye.

The silver she-cat's eyes flashed, and Tinyclaw saw that she wasn't humorless. She twitched her dripping whiskers and shot back, "Can't you drown in your own territory?"

"Who would save me then?" Graystripe wondered, pushing himself up.

The she-cat frowned. Tinyclaw fidgeted, uncomfortable. The apprentices were here, and Graystripe was fine – it felt strange to be around the RiverClan she-cat, especially with how much tension there was between the two Clans now.

"We need to get out of here, Graystripe," Tinyclaw insisted. "Come on."

"I know," Graystripe huffed. He pushed himself to his paws. He wobbled a little, but managed to stay steady. He looked at the silver tabby and expressed, "Thanks again."

She looked away from him. "Get out of here, will you? If my father knew I'd saved a ThunderClan cat, he'd shred me for kit bedding!" she hissed.

"Why save me then?" Graystripe wondered.

She got up and turned away. "I can't let any cat drown, my Clan or not," she replied. "Now get out of here!"

"You have my thanks," Tinyclaw told her. "I'd miss this furball if he'd drowned."

Graystripe lifted his head and asked, "I'm Graystripe! What's your name?"

"Why do you care?" the she-cat wondered.

"I'd like to know the name of the cat who rescued me," Graystripe replied. "When I have kits, I'll be sure to tell them that I wouldn't be here without you."

The silver tabby looked taken aback. Then, she replied, "Silverstream. I'm Silverstream."

"Thank you, Silverstream," Graystripe told her.

The silver tabby said nothing. She turned away and pushed herself into the river. In a moment, she was on the other side, shaking out her pelt. Tinyclaw turned away from her – he thanked StarClan that Silverstream had come, but she was an enemy warrior and they were on her territory.

Tinyclaw helped Graystripe to his paws. The gray warrior seemed rather distracted, glancing back towards the river more than once as Tinyclaw did his best to help him out of RiverClan territory.

"Was she sure pretty!" Cinderpaw fawned. "For a RiverClan cat, I mean."

Graystripe rasped laughter and cuffed her over the ear.

Thankfully, Cinderpaw stuck close as they headed out of RiverClan territory. Tinyclaw was worried she might dart ahead again and get herself into trouble – it was half her fault that Graystripe was a soaked mess now. If Silverstream hadn't come, Tinyclaw might have lost his friend to the churning torrent of the gorge.

_It's too late to go back for the vole,_ Tinyclaw thought with dismay. _Graystripe's wetter than a fish and we have no prey for the elders. Bluefur is going to kill us!_

"The stream near the training hollow is still running with water," Brackenpaw mused.

"What?" Tinyclaw wondered.

"We could say Graystripe fell in there," Cinderpaw chimed in. "If the Clan doesn't assume he fell in there to begin with!"

Tinyclaw pricked his ears.

"We could say he was showing us how to catch fish," Brackenpaw went on.

"I'm not sure any cat would believe Graystripe would get this wet on purpose," Tinyclaw told the apprentices. It was a well-known fact that Graystripe hated water.

Graystripe bristled beside him, teeth chattering. "It's better than the Clan thinking we were on RiverClan territory on purpose!" he exclaimed. "I don't need them knowing I was saved by a RiverClan cat, either."

Tinyclaw nodded. There really was no other option but to lie – but Graystripe looked cold. They were on ThunderClan territory again, but far from camp. Graystripe needed to warm up. "Let's run," Tinyclaw decided. "It'll get us home faster, and it'll help Graystripe warm up."

They raced through the forest. Tinyclaw tried to ignore Graystripe's wheezing as they neared the camp. The sun was setting behind the trees when they finally pushed through the gorse tunnel, panting.

Graystripe sounded awful with his wheezing, but at least his teeth weren't chattering anymore. Little bits of ice clung to the tips of his fur in clumps.

Tinyclaw's heart sank as he led the way through the gorse tunnel. There, in the clearing, Bluefur was waiting. Her eyes were narrowed in anger.

"No fresh-kill?" she growled. "I thought you were taking this pair out hunting! And Graystripe – you look half-drowned!" She rose to her paws, spine bristling with anger as she snarled, "Don't you tell me you were on RiverClan territory _again!"_


	14. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

"_Well?"_

Tinyclaw lifted his head, prepared to meet Bluefur's accusing tone – but Cinderpaw and Brackenpaw stepped forward. Cinderpaw cut Tinyclaw off before the older tom could even come up with a proper lie.

"It's my fault, Bluefur," she meowed. Her stance was confident, her tone assured, with the right amount of guilt. "We were hunting by the frozen stream near the training hollow. Graystripe was trying to show me an advanced hunting maneuver, but he mistimed it and landed on the ice near the deep part. He fell in, and Tinyclaw had to pull him out."

Tinyclaw blinked in shock, recalling how he had stood, silent and stark with terror, as Graystripe floundered in the river.

Bluefur blinked at Cinderpaw, and then looked at Graystripe. "Get yourself to Yellowfang," she ordered. "Before you catch a chill." She stood up and padded away towards the warriors den, her gray-blue pelt rippling across her stomach.

Tinyclaw sighed with relief.

Graystripe didn't say much – his teeth were chattering, and he loped off to the medicine cat's den with a frosty pelt. Tinyclaw knew he'd see him later, and that Yellowfang would take good care of him. Brackenpaw gave a yawn, his tail drooping tiredly.

"Get some rest," Tinyclaw offered. "I want to talk to Cinderpaw for a moment."

Brackenpaw nodded and plodded off, tail low. He didn't bother to grab anything to eat as he slunk into the apprentice's den, leaving Tinyclaw and Cinderpaw alone in the frosty clearing, their breath billowing before their muzzles.

"What do you want to talk to me about?" Cinderpaw wondered.

Tinyclaw turned to her. "You lie well, but weren't you afraid that Bluefur might see through it?" he wondered.

Cinderpaw tilted her head. "I wondered if she might, but I'm not afraid of her," she replied.

"Not at all?" Tinyclaw wondered.

Cinderpaw shrugged. Then she said, eyes sparkling, "Bluefur's an amazing warrior – Clan deputy, and having kits too! I admire her, and I want to be like her someday."

Tinyclaw stiffened.

"You were lucky – you had her as your _mentor!"_ Cinderpaw breathed. "That must mean you're a great warrior like her, too."

_I'm nothing like her,_ he wanted to spit – but Cinderpaw wouldn't know anything about that, and she would be hurt. _Of course she would idolize Bluefur though…_ _apart from being an ambitious murderer, she _is_ an excellent warrior…_

He sighed, then said, "You oughtn't make a habit of lying."

"I don't intend to," Cinderpaw assured him. She yawned, then said, "The truth just wouldn't have been very helpful there."

Tinyclaw flicked his tail. She had a point there. He told her, "Go get some rest, and warm up."

"Sure thing!" Cinderpaw mewed chipperly. She bounced over to the apprentice's den, tail high and fur fluffed out.

Tinyclaw sighed when the fluffy she-cat had disappeared into the apprentice's den. _She'll be trouble when she's a warrior, that's for sure,_ he thought. _At least her lie meant well._

Exhausted himself, Tinyclaw padded over to the fresh-kill pile. He picked a few choice pieces and headed over to the nettle clump, where he settled down to eat. He thought of another cat whose story had enraptured him – Ravenpaw. Had he really lied about Bluefur killing Redtail? Every other cat in ThunderClan seemed convinced that Bluefur was just an amazing, dedicated warrior – nothing more, nothing less. They spoke of her with awe and reverence.

Tinyclaw shook his head, swiping his tone along his jaws. _They didn't see the fear in Ravenpaw's eyes,_ he thought, recalling that rainy night. _They didn't hear how truly frightened he was – frightened enough to leave the Clan, the place where he was born and raised._

He felt a tingle at how Cinderpaw spoke of wanting to be like Bluefur. He admiration in her voice hadn't been forced – it was pure, honest. She _looked up_ to Bluefur, and why shouldn't she? Tigerstar certainly didn't stop treating Bluefur with respect; his attitude hadn't changed at all since Tinyclaw had told him the truth.

Tinyclaw ripped into his mouse with a frustrated growl.

The harsh tang of herbs alerted Tinyclaw to Graystripe's arrival before the gray tom's sneeze would have. Tinyclaw looked up from his meal to find his friend wobbling before him, eyes drooping with tiredness, with breath smelling like one of Yellowfang's concoctions. Tinyclaw flicked his tail sympathetically.

"You OK?" he asked.

"I have a chill," Graystripe rasped. To emphasize, Graystripe gave a rough cough. Tinyclaw flinched. "I have to stay in camp until I'm better."

Tinyclaw pushed a thrush and mouse towards Graystripe. "I saved you some fresh-kill," he offered.

Graystripe eyed the pieces, but pushed the mouse back. He huddled down by the thrush and began nibbling. "This'll be enough for me right now."

Tinyclaw's ears pricked. That didn't seem very like his friend. _Perhaps it's the sickness, or the herbs Yellowfang gave him,_ Tinyclaw thought.

"Are you sure?" Tinyclaw asked.

Graystripe stared at the thrush. He didn't reply.

"Graystripe?" Tinyclaw wondered.

"Wha?" Graystripe wondered, his tone muddled. He turned his gaze to Tinyclaw, and his eyes were distant, staring at something far-off.

"Nothing," Tinyclaw offered. _He must have a fever,_ he thought. He sighed. Graystripe would be better in time; he was sick, but he was here, and that was important.

_Thanks to you, Silverstream. He's here thanks to you._

* * *

><p>Days later, Tinyclaw woke to clouded vision. Foggy leaf-bare air was in the warrior's den, and when Tinyclaw yawned he tasted frost raw on the air. He pushed out of the warrior's den and into a clearing lost in cold fog. He could barely make out the Highrock, and what lay beyond was shrouded from his eyes. The patter of paws alerted him to Mousefur before she appeared before him from within the gloom.<p>

"Bluefur wants to see you," she meowed.

"Right, thanks," he told her politely. Inside, however, he trembled – he had slipped off to visit Fiona yesterday. Had Bluefur somehow noticed?

Mousefur nodded and padded past him, into the warrior's den. Tinyclaw heard the sounds of warriors shifting, and Graystripe's herb-laden breath alerted Tinyclaw to his friend before he poked his scruffy gray head out of the den.

"What's that about?" Graystripe wondered, his breath loud and wheezing.

Tinyclaw flinched at the sound. No doubt Graystripe ought to have been better by now – he had been stuck in camp since the incident at the river, getting herbs from Yellowfang every day. "Bluefur wants to see me," he said. "Get some more sleep – didn't you rest up yesterday at all? You don't sound very much like it."

"The best I could, between coughing and sneezing," Graystripe replied. Something in his tone was sharp, and Tinyclaw wondered why.

"You weren't in the den when I came back from training," Tinyclaw pointed out.

He saw Graystripe bristle a little. "I found someplace quieter, that's all," he grumbled. "Warriors were barging in and out all day, making such a huge racket."

Tinyclaw opened his jaws, then Graystripe filled them. He asked, "I wonder what Bluefur wants?"

Shutting his jaws, Tinyclaw decided he would deal with Graystripe later. Paws prickling, he flicked his tail at Graystripe and headed across the clearing. He could make out the shapes of Bluefur speaking with Whitestorm and Oakheart below the Highrock.

As Tinyclaw padded up to them, Bluefur looked over at him and meowed, "It's time Cinderpaw and Brackenpaw were assessed."

Tinyclaw stopped short. "Assessed?" he repeated. "Already?" The apprentices hadn't been training very long.

"Tigerstar wants to see how they're progressing," Bluefur replied tightly. "With Graystripe being so sick, he's wondering if he ought to appoint a temporary mentor for Cinderpaw."

Tinyclaw's tail twitched. Annoyed, he replied, "I've taken her out with me and Brackenpaw every day."

"And it's appreciated," Whitestorm cut in. "But it's a lot for a young warrior – and first-time mentor – to take on two apprentices. We want to make sure Cinderpaw has the best possible training."

Tinyclaw glanced at Whitestorm. He knew the older warrior meant no disrespect, but he couldn't help but feel like the words were aimed at his heritage. _They hardly think I can train Brackenpaw decently; I'm just a kittypet, after all – not a Clanborn warrior… as if that makes them any better than me! I didn't ask to take on Cinderpaw too; she needs guidance!_ He had been putting a lot of effort into helping Cinderpaw and Brackenpaw, and hearing them doubt him stung like a blow.

Bluefur flicked her tail. "I want you to take them through Tallpines, as far as Twolegplace," she meowed. "Keep an eye on them, watch them hunt. I expect a full report when they return. I'm interested to see how much fresh-kill they add to the pile."

"Having seen how enthusiastic Cinderpaw is, I'm sure there will be plenty to eat tonight," Oakheart mused. "I hear she is rather keen."

"She is," Tinyclaw replied. Inside, though, his stomach was fluttering. Why was Bluefur sending them along the same route she had sent him as an apprentice? She had caught him sharing words with an old kittypet friend then, and he had his loyalties questioned almost immediately afterward by Tigerstar.

_Has she seen me talking to Fiona?_ Tinyclaw wondered. He felt his spine prickle. _Is this her way of warning me…? No, she would outright tell me. She would confront me._

He turned his head and licked down the fur, repeating his thoughts over and over. Bluefur had never been one to beat around the bush, as it were. Especially not with him.

"I think Sunningrocks might be better," Tinyclaw offered. "The sun there will have burned away the mist."

Bluefur shook her head. Curling her lip, she growled, "No – RiverClan has been scented around Sunningrocks in the past few days. Stale scent, but it gets stronger every day. They must have started hunting there again."

"We won't do any more training there for now," Whitestorm added. "Not until RiverClan has been sorted out. Tallpines will do well for their assessment."

Tinyclaw nodded in agreement with Whitestorm. He supposed that if there was no other option, he'd have to take them to Tallpines. He didn't want to put the apprentices in danger. From the sound of things, it was lucky that a patrol hadn't spotted Graystripe falling into the river!

"As for the fog," Bluefur went on, "it will be good to test their abilities in difficult conditions. You'll see it makes the assessment more interesting."

"Of course, Bluefur," Tinyclaw meowed. "I'll tell Cinderpaw and Brackenpaw right away – we'll get started."

* * *

><p>Tinyclaw had hardly finished explaining the assessment to the two apprentices when Cinderpaw hopped to her paws and spun in an excited circle.<p>

"An assessment!" she mewed. "Are you sure we're ready?"

"Of course," Tinyclaw assured her. "You've both been working hard and learning quickly."

Brackenpaw flicked his tail. "The fog will make hunting difficult," he admitted. "Are you _sure_ we're ready?"

_Pragmatic as always,_ Tinyclaw thought, looking down at his apprentice. He liked that about Brackenpaw – always thinking, always listening. Very unlike Cinderpaw, who still had issues with sitting still.

"There are advantages to the still air," Tinyclaw meowed. His tone invited Brackenpaw to fill in the gaps.

Brackenpaw nodded, his eyes brightening as he realized. "It will make it difficult to scent for prey, but it will make it harder for prey to scent us, too!" he mewed.

Tinyclaw nodded. "Exactly."

"Shall we go now?" Cinderpaw wondered.

"As soon as you like," Tinyclaw meowed. "But remember, Cinderpaw, it's not a…"

She was already gone.

"…race."

Tinyclaw sighed.

He looked at Brackenpaw and meowed, "You have until sunset."

Brackenpaw blinked sympathetically. "I'll tell her," he promised. He turned away and padded after his sister.

Tinyclaw waited a bit before following them. When he was sure they had gone a long way, he picked up their scents and began tracking them through the woods. They had made it to Tallpines, their pawmarks small indentations in the soft pine-strewn earth. They had traveled together for a time before parting ways, obviously smelling prey.

He followed Cinderpaw's scent first, until he could see her stalking through the forest – a little gray puffball moving low to the ground. Her stance was good, but he worried her tail might give her away. Tinyclaw doubled back and picked up Brackenpaw's trail, following his apprentice as he trekked through the pines.

Their scents crossed here and there – Tinyclaw could tell where they met, where they'd say, where they'd run, and where they'd stalked. He spotted little bits of blood on the forest floor, and Cinderpaw's scent told him that she had caught something. She had carried it with her, burying it beneath a layer of pine needles.

Tinyclaw followed Brackenpaw's trail until he spotted the apprentice carrying a thrush. The kill-spot was not far away, with blood and feathers as evidence. He followed Brackenpaw, keeping a safe distance, and spotted him depositing his prey with his sisters. When Brackenpaw was gone, he saw that the both of them had a very large stash of prey in the roots of an old oak. He could tell by scent who had caught how much – though Brackenpaw was his apprentice, Tinyclaw felt equally proud of the both of them.

Cinderpaw's scent told him she was heading for the oak woods near Twolegplace. Tinyclaw followed, but was distracted by Brackenpaw's scent just at the edge of the pines. It was strong – he was near. Tinyclaw dropped into a crouch and crept up on his apprentice, spotting him from the cover of a bush of bracken.

His apprentice was stalking a wood mouse. Brackenpaw's stance was practically perfect, and each movement was patient and well-thought-out. Tinyclaw felt a glimmer of pride as Brackenpaw made a perfect leap – rising from the ground with the wood mouse in his jaws. Tinyclaw could see the satisfaction in Brackenpaw's face as he headed back to put the fresh-kill into his pile.

"Hiya!"

Tinyclaw jumped out of the bracken in shock. He whipped around and found Cinderpaw standing just behind him.

"How are we doing?" she asked, head tipped to one side.

"You're not supposed to ask that!" Tinyclaw hissed, still stunned. She had crept up on him so easily! "You're not supposed to speak to me at all – I'm _assessing_ you, remember?"

"Oh! Sorry," Cinderpaw mewed.

Tinyclaw flattened his ears. He recalled how he had never dared to approach Bluefur during his own assessment – mostly because she would approach him. She would leap down from the trees, attacking him mercilessly until he fended her off or played dead. He had been so afraid during his hunting assessment – worried she would appear out of nowhere to attack him.

_I'm not like that,_ he thought. _And this proves that the way she trained me was wrong. Still, it wouldn't hurt to be respected…_

Cinderpaw blinked at him. She took the opportunity of the silence to ask, "Were you really born here, in the Twolegplace?"

Tinyclaw blinked in surprise. Why would she ask that? He glanced at a Twoleg fence, visible between the pines. He wondered if Cinderpaw's and Brackenpaw's strange scents would draw out Fiona. "Why do you ask?" Tinyclaw wondered.

"Brackenpaw mentioned it," Cinderpaw mewed. "I thought he was pulling my leg."

Tinyclaw frowned. _At least it wasn't Bluefur filling her head,_ he thought. He replied, "I was born in the Twolegplace, as a kittypet. But I'm a warrior now, and my life is with the Clan. My old life wasn't bad, but I'm glad it's over – this is the life I wanted to live."

"Oh," Cinderpaw replied, as if she wasn't looking for all that Tinyclaw had said. She turned and threw over her shoulder, "Alright. See you later!"

Tinyclaw watched her bound away. He sighed, thinking of what he'd told her. He was loyal to his Clan, he really was – but every day he spent talking to Fiona only made him realize just how _lonely_ he felt when he was around his Clanmates.

_This is the life I wanted to live,_ he told himself, knowing it to be true, _but I didn't think it would feel so… lonely._


	15. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

_Tinyclaw waited by the apprentice's prey-_stockpile. The sun was sinking into the trees, turning the world around him orange and red. The sound of pawsteps caused Tinyclaw to turn and face Cinderpaw and Brackenpaw. Both were carrying fresh-kill in their jaws, watching him curiously with tired eyes.

_No one could complain about the effort these two put in,_ Tinyclaw thought, a bit of pride warming his heart. _They did so well!_

He drew his paw over the needle-covered stash, uncovering it. "I'll take this," he meowed. "We'll head back to camp together."

Tinyclaw picked up the fresh-kill between his teeth, gently, and led the apprentices through the woods. The sun sank steadily behind them, signaling mealtime. Tinyclaw's belly growled and his mouth watered – but he kept strong and forced the thought of eating out of his head until the group pushed through the thorn barrier and into the camp.

Most of the cats had already picked their meals, settling down with friends and family for supper. Bluefur had been looking out for their return – she padded over to join them as Tinyclaw and the apprentices put their prey on the pile.

There was no missing the surprise in her eyes. "They caught all this themselves?" she asked.

"Yes," Tinyclaw replied. He allowed his tone some pride.

"Well done," Bluefur decided. Evenly, she looked at Tinyclaw. "Come join Tigerstar and myself across the clearing. We're already eating – bring something for yourself."

Though the order came from Bluefur, Tinyclaw couldn't stop his fur from prickling with astonishment. He felt Cinderpaw's and Brackenpaw's eyes on him, wide as moons. Typically only senior warriors ate with Tigerstar or Bluefur – to be invited to eat with the leader and deputy as such a young warrior was a massive honor.

_Yet the last cat I want to share a meal with is Bluefur,_ Tinyclaw thought. _And she knows it._

"By the way," Bluefur meowed, drawing Tinyclaw out of his thoughts, "have you seen Graystripe?"

Tinyclaw blinked, confused. "No; not since this morning," he answered. "Perhaps he's with Yellowfang?"

Bluefur frowned. "Perhaps," she mused. She didn't say anything more. Bluefur turned and padded over to Tigerstar, who was eating a fat pigeon under the shade of the Highrock.

Tinyclaw frowned. _He probably just went looking for some peace and quiet,_ he told himself. Tinyclaw couldn't concern himself with Graystripe just now. He looked at the fresh-kill pile, eyeing a chaffinch – but he chose a vole instead. How would he give a good report to Tigerstar through a mouthful of feathers?

"Welcome!" Tigerstar mewed, as Tinyclaw approached. The pigeon was caught between his massive forepaws, half-eaten. Bluefur was nibbling at a shrew beside her leader, her belly distended awkwardly. Tinyclaw settled down before Tigerstar, his own meal before him.

Tigerstar's gaze was friendly, washing away the awkwardness Tinyclaw felt. "I hear the apprentices hunted well?"

"They did," Tinyclaw assured him. "Neither has hunted in the mist before, but it didn't seem to set them back. Brackenpaw's stalking was excellent – I watched him as he went after a wood mouse. He caught it before it even knew he was there."

Tigerstar's whiskers twitched. "Wonderful," he meowed. "But what about Cinderpaw?"

Tinyclaw flicked an ear. _He's just wondering how she's doing,_ he told himself. _After all, I've been taking on two apprentices since Graystripe fell ill. Of course Tigerstar is worried she might be falling behind._

"Her hunting skills seem to be developing well," Tinyclaw told Tigerstar. "She certainly has a lot of enthusiasm, and nothing seems to frighten her."

Tigerstar's eyes flashed. "Are you not worried it might make her reckless?" he asked.

"Of course I am," Tinyclaw replied. "And Graystripe is, too – but she's quick and inquisitive. She's a great learner. I have a feeling that will make up for her eagerness." Was 'eagerness' the right word for Cinderpaw? Tinyclaw didn't really know. It was a better word than 'reckless', that was for sure.

"Her _eagerness_ worries me," Tigerstar admitted. He glanced at Bluefur, then back at Tinyclaw. "She will need careful guidance in her training."

Tinyclaw resisted tipping his head. Was Tigerstar worried that Tinyclaw might not be able to handle taming Cinderpaw's attitude?

Tigerstar's expression softened. "Cinderpaw was always going to be a challenge," he rumbled. "But she is clearly turning into a fine hunter – Brackenpaw, too. You've done a fine job with him, Tinyclaw."

Tinyclaw blinked, taken aback at the praise. "T-Thank you, Tigerstar," he replied.

"I knew giving you Brackenpaw to mentor would be a good idea," Tigerstar went on. He took a bite of pigeon, then went on, "You've done a fine job with the both of them, Tinyclaw. I'm grateful you took on Cinderpaw's training without being asked. I want you continue to mentor them both for the time being."

Tinyclaw didn't miss the flash in Bluefur's eyes. She was clearly not happy with the decision, but she said nothing.

"Thank you, Tigerstar," Tinyclaw offered. He felt light, happy that he had been doing such a good job. Handling two apprentices at once wasn't something a warrior did normally, and Tinyclaw figured he wouldn't want to do it again unless asked. _I'm proving myself,_ he thought.

"I see your friend has returned," Bluefur noted.

Tinyclaw saw the bushes behind the nursery rustling. Graystripe appeared, looking damp and tired. Tinyclaw flicked his tail and mewed, "He was probably just getting some peace and quiet. He still seems very feverish."

Bluefur narrowed her eyes. "Leaf-bare is not the time to be sick," she growled. "He needs to be concentrating on getting better. Mousefur was caught coughing on the dawn patrol – we don't need this spreading around camp. We lost five kits to greencough last year… StarClan grant that this year won't be the same."

She shifted, and Tinyclaw frowned as he realized she was worried about her own kits, due in the dead of leaf-bare themselves. For once her spite didn't seem to be directed at Tinyclaw.

Tigerstar was nodding his great brown tabby head. "Let's pray this leaf-bare is not as long or as hard," he rumbled, looking solemn. "It is a hard time for all the Clans."

He looked up at Tinyclaw and meowed, "Take that vole and share it with Graystripe. He'll want to know how Cinderpaw did in her assessment."

"Of course," Tinyclaw meowed.

He picked up his vole – hardly touched – and headed over to Graystripe. Fur brushing his flank stopped him, and Tinyclaw turned to find Bluefur beside him. She was close enough for Tinyclaw to feel the tenseness of her muscles, and the roundness of her stomach.

"I'm watching you, Tinyclaw," she growled, her voice low. "You had best teach those apprentices well. I expect them to be excellent warriors in spite of your… self."

Tinyclaw narrowed his eyes. He couldn't say much around the vole stuffed in his mouth._She knows I'm not being as hard on them as she was on me,_ he thought. He recalled dimly that she had hoped he might follow in her pawsteps one day – but Tinyclaw wanted nothing to do with his former mentor's plans.

He only wanted to stop her.

Bluefur stalked off, heading for Yellowfang's den. When she was out of sight Tinyclaw allowed himself to shiver. He looked back at Tigerstar – but the massive tabby didn't seem to have noticed what had happened.

_She threatened me,_ Tinyclaw thought. _Again! Does she think I'm failing at training those apprentices?_

Tinyclaw settled himself down beside Graystripe, pushing those thoughts away. Graystripe sneezed when Tinyclaw arrived, but he was chowing down on a wood pigeon and seemed to be intent on finishing his meal for once. Tinyclaw hoped it meant his friend was on the mend.

"How are you feeling?" Tinyclaw asked.

Graystripe shrugged. "Not much better," he rasped. "I guess I need to stick around here a little while longer."

_At least you seem to sound more cheerful,_ Tinyclaw thought. Still, he had a growing suspicion that Graystripe was up to something. Tinyclaw took a bite of vole and decided to change the subject.

"Cinderpaw did really well in her assessment," he told Graystripe.

"That's great," Graystripe replied. His tone was far-away, almost bordering on disinterested. Tinyclaw's fur burned.

"She's turning into a great hunter," Tinyclaw added. _And you're missing it._

"Great," Graystripe replied. He took another large bite of pigeon.

Tinyclaw flicked his ears. He took another bite of vole, then asked, "Graystripe… have you been out of camp these past few days?"

Graystripe stopped chewing suddenly. "Why?" he asked.

_So there _is_ something,_ Tinyclaw thought, tail twitching. "You weren't here when I got in from last night's patrol, and Bluefur said she hadn't seen you for some time today."

"Bluefur?" Graystripe's mew sounded worried.

"I told her you were with Yellowfang, getting some peace and quiet," Tinyclaw told his friend. A cold feeling crept up beneath Tinyclaw's pelt. "W-Were you?"

Graystripe kept on chewing. Then, he said, "Thanks for covering for me, Tinyclaw."

_You completely dodged the question!_ Tinyclaw thought. _We're friends, Graystripe – what are you hiding from me?_

* * *

><p>They shared their meal long into the sunset – the stars were coming out to twinkle when Graystripe announced he was off to his nest. Tinyclaw decided to stay out a little longer, brain buzzing about his friend's secret – Tinyclaw knew no more about it now than he had before.<p>

Tinyclaw stretched, then rolled onto his back to look at the stars. From the smell of Graystripe, he'd given himself a rather nice wash recently. _He pretty much admitted he had left camp,_ Tinyclaw thought. _Where did he go that would make him hide his scent when he got back to camp? Where did he go that he couldn't tell me?_

Guilt festered in Tinyclaw's heart. Like he was one to talk! He gave himself thorough washes after every visit to Fiona and the Twolegplace – and he had never told Graystripe about the meetings.

He flipped over and sat up, feeling something tug at his paws. Tinyclaw lifted his single white forepaw to find a little shriveled willow leaf caught between his claws. He tugged it out and laid it on the frosty grass, tail flicking in confusion.

_Willows don't grow on this far into the forest,_ he thought. _They only grow near… the river!_ Tinyclaw's heart began to pound, and his stomach knotted. _This didn't come from me – it came from Graystripe!_

What could Graystripe possibly be doing near the river, after all the trouble he'd had with RiverClan lately? Had he really been foolish enough to try trespassing, even after Leopardfur's threat? Tinyclaw shivered.

_Graystripe,_ he thought desperately. _What are you getting yourself into?_

* * *

><p>Tinyclaw didn't sleep well that night – screams and shrieks and blood filled his dreams. When he finally opened his eyes, the air felt camp and chilly against his pelt. He pushed his way out of the den, thoughts of Graystripe alone in RiverClan territory swirling in his head like the water pounding at the bottom of the gorge.<p>

"Chilly?" Runningwind's mew startled Tinyclaw. The brown warrior had approached quietly, giving Tinyclaw a friendly look.

"Yeah," Tinyclaw agreed. He shivered again, fluffing up his black pelt.

The lean warrior padded closer. Runningwind tipped his head. "You alright, Tinyclaw? You seem distressed. You haven't caught Graystripe's cold, have you? Mousefur was streaming with it this morning and Longtail said Brightpaw had been coughing all through yesterday's patrol!"

_That certainly doesn't sound good,_ Tinyclaw thought.

"I'm fine," he insisted. "Just tired after yesterday's assessment." It wasn't a lie – it had kept him on his paws from dawn to sunset.

"Ah," Runningwind breathed. "Tigerstar figured you might be – he asked that I help you with Cinderpaw and Brackenpaw today. Is that alright with you?"

Tinyclaw nodded. Runningwind was a great warrior, if not a touch impatient. Tinyclaw hadn't had much time to get to know Mousefur's brother one-on-one.

"Thanks," Tinyclaw told him.

"Of course," Runningwind replied. "Sandpaw and Dustpaw are hunting, and Brightpaw is sick – so we'll have the hollow to ourselves, it seems. I'll meet you there when I'm done eating. You hungry?"

Tinyclaw shook his head. Truthfully, his stomach felt like a stone. He couldn't eat if he wanted to. Runningwind shrugged, then went off to the fresh-kill pile to pick the best bits from the remains of last night.

He headed straight for the training hollow. He settled himself there, thoughts about Graystripe churning, feeling the sunshine on his dark pelt. His mind was not on what he might do with the apprentices today – it was on Graystripe sneaking into RiverClan territory for StarClan-knows why.

* * *

><p>Rain was on the breeze when Runningwind and the apprentices arrived in the hollow. The wind rattled the leafless branches as Cinderpaw skidded to a halt in the middle of the hollow, nearly ramming into Tinyclaw.<p>

"What are we doing today?" she asked, loudly.

Tinyclaw looked down at her, frowning. He hadn't been thinking about that at all.

"Hunting?" Brackenpaw asked. His tone was hopeful, and there was a spring in his step. Obviously he knew how well he had done yesterday. He joined Cinderpaw before Tinyclaw.

"How about we practice some hunting techniques," Runningwind suggested, coming into the hollow himself.

"Good idea," Tinyclaw said quickly.

Cinderpaw frowned. "Not that old 'rabbits hears you, mouse smells you' stuff!" she complained. "We _know_ that already!"

Runningwind threw her a look, then returned his gaze to Tinyclaw. With a jolt, Tinyclaw realized he was waiting for Tinyclaw's word to start.

"Right!" Tinyclaw said rushedly. "I'll show you the best way to stalk a rabbit."

He ducked down quickly, stalking across the sandy floor of the hollow quickly and rapidly. When he was done and sat up, he was confronted by confused looks from his audience. Quickly, fur burning, Tinyclaw realized he had shown off his best _bird_ stalking crouch – a rabbit would have heard him three fox-lengths away!

Runningwind frowned. He turned to the apprentices, then said, "How about I show you how to creep up on a shrew?" The apprentices turned their bright gazes to look at Runningwind, and Tinyclaw sighed.

He watched Runningwind's demonstration, trying his best to concentrate. Tinyclaw couldn't keep himself from fidgeting with worry, though, and by sunhigh it felt like time was stretching on and on into eternity and the day would last forever.

Finally, his restlessness was too overwhelming. He padded over to Runningwind and mewed into his ear, "I've got a bellyache. Can you take over for today? I want to see if Yellowfang has anything for it."

"You did seem off," Runningwind agreed. "I'll handle the apprentices. Maybe take them hunting or something. Go take care of yourself."

"Thank you, Runningwind," Tinyclaw replied warmly, thankful that Runningwind seemed to understand.

Tinyclaw left the hollow, wincing every few steps to act as if he were in pain, and suddenly the air felt less clustered and fresher. He took a deep breath and headed for camp, racing through the trees.

_When Graystripe came back yesterday he came out from behind the nursery,_ Tinyclaw thought, lungs heaving. _It's the best place to slip through the camp boundary unnoticed. Yellowfang used it when the Clan thought she'd killed Spottedleaf._

Tinyclaw slowed his pace when he approached the barrier. He sniffed around the tangled gorse bushes, filtering through the scents of ThunderClan to find Graystripe's. By the smell of things, Graystripe used the secret passage often – but the scent was stale, meaning he hadn't been out this way yet today.

Frowning, Tinyclaw launched himself up a sturdy elm. The dark-colored bark would hide his pelt, and his scent would stale against the trunk as if he had just brushed against it. He settled himself on a low, sturdy branch, hiding his white paw beneath him. Taking a deep breath, Tinyclaw settled in for the wait.

_My belly really is aching now,_ Tinyclaw thought._ Don't come out, Graystripe! Please…_

Tinyclaw's heart lurched when he saw Graystripe's gray nose poking through the bracken walls of the camp. They twitched, and Graystripe came into view. Tinyclaw kept his eyes on his friend as Graystripe looked about for a few moments, eyes narrowed and tail flicking. Then, Graystripe set off towards the training hollow with a trot.

_Did he decide to join the training session?_ Tinyclaw wondered, hope flaring in his heart. When Graystripe was out of sight, he leaped down from the tree and began to follow. He kept a safe distance, following Graystripe by scent rather than sight.

Tinyclaw's hopes plummeted as Graystripe's scent suddenly veered off into the trees. Heart sinking, Tinyclaw realized that Graystripe's scent trail was heading straight for Sunningrocks. He followed, keeping low to the ground as the gray-brown stones rose from between the trees.

The bushes rustled – Graystripe was in sight now, pushing through the bracken and trees with his broad gray shoulders. There was no doubt of his destination.

Graystripe was out of sight in a moment, and Tinyclaw followed. Every part of Tinyclaw was alert for enemy warriors – but Graystripe was trotting through the forest as if he owned it, without fear. Tinyclaw could hear the river lapping at the shore now, freed from its frozen shackles.

Tinyclaw hid himself in a patch of bracken, hoping to StarClan that no RiverClan warriors were here. Graystripe was sitting on the pebbly shore, looking out over the river. For a moment, Tinyclaw wondered if he was just here to enjoy the view – but a strange call sounded in the distance, and Graystripe lifted his head.

_Who is that?_ Tinyclaw wondered. The call sounded familiar.

The reeds and bracken across the river rustled, and a silver-colored cat slipped out and into the water. She paddled across the river, strong and swift, and pulled herself up and onto the shore. Tinyclaw's heart caught in his throat as he recognized the distinctive, swirling stripes of the tabby.

_Silverstream!_

Graystripe let out a mew of greeting – happy, boisterous, _joyful_ – and padded down to the water's edge to meet her. Silverstream shook out her pelt and met him in the middle. The two touched noses.

Tinyclaw watched, horror crawling up his pelt, as Silverstream pressed her damp fur against Graystripe and wound her way around him. He waited for Graystripe to tell her to stop – to say _anything_ – but the sick gray tom didn't resist. In fact, he seemed really, _really_ happy.

The two huddled together on the shore, fur pressing and tails twined. Tinyclaw's heart sank as he heard the rumble of Graystripe's rusty purr from where he was hidden.

_No,_ Tinyclaw thought. _Oh, StarClan… no…_


	16. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

_Tinyclaw's body bristled in shock and_ horror. How could Graystripe be so blind, so foolish? He was breaking the warrior code meeting Silverstream!

He pushed out of the bushes and hissed, "Graystripe!"

Silverstream spotted him first. Her ears pinned back, she curled her lip defensively. Graystripe, startled, jumped away from her, his pelt dark and damp. He stared at Tinyclaw, his yellow eyes wide.

"You… you _followed_ me!" Graystripe burst.

_Better me than someone else! Your trail wasn't exactly subtle._ Tinyclaw wanted to growl. Instead, he snapped, "What in the name of StarClan are you _doing,_ Graystripe? Don't you know how dangerous this is?"

Silverstream's body relaxed. Confidently, she meowed, "There won't be a patrol here until after sunset. It's all right."

Tinyclaw stared at her incredulously. "How can you be so certain of that?" he asked. "As if you know all your Clans' movements!"

He had expected to catch her off guard, but Silverstream raised her chin proudly. Pointedly, she replied, "I do, actually. My father is Crookedstar, leader of RiverClan."

Tinyclaw stared at her and then looked to Graystripe. "What are you playing at?" he snapped. "Could you have possibly chosen worse?"

Graystripe turned away from Tinyclaw. He looked to Silverstream and meowed, "I'd better get going."

Silverstream blinked, slowly. Then, she nodded. Silverstream stretched her neck out to Graystripe, pressing her muzzle into his. They remained this way for a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity for Tinyclaw, who was grinding his claws impatiently against the stones.

Finally, they broke apart. Silverstream whispered something into Graystripe's ear, and the fluffy gray tom purred at it. Silverstream threw Tinyclaw a glare before turning away and slipping back into the river.

Graystripe waited until she was safe on the other side of the river before turning about and heading back into the forest. Tinyclaw lashed his tail and followed his friend, frustration bubbling to the very tips of his pelt.

Neither spoke until they were past Sunningrocks and well into ThunderClan territory. Tinyclaw's worry had ebbed a bit now that they were away from the RiverClan border, but anger still trembled in Tinyclaw's mew: "You _must_ stop this, Graystripe!"

Graystripe opened his mouth to reply, but his words were caught up in a cough. When he had regained his composure, he rasped, "I can't – I _won't."_

Tinyclaw sighed, still flustered. "I don't understand," he said. "RiverClan _hates_ us right now – don't you remember what Leopardfur said when Whiteclaw died? This is the _worst_ possible time for this sort of thing how can you even _trust_ her?"

Graystripe narrowed his eyes. "You don't _know_ Silverstream," he hissed. His eyes glazed over with pain. "There's no need to remind me about Whiteclaw, either – do you think it's easy for me, knowing I'm responsible for the death of one of Silverstream's Clanmates?"

Tinyclaw snorted. Graystripe ignored him, bending around to give his flanks a good washing. Tinyclaw pinned his ears back as he thought of how ridiculous Graystripe sounded – _Clanmate?_ Whiteclaw was an enemy warrior! Graystripe was sitting here, acting like he and Silverstream were in the same Clan!

Graystripe went on, between licks, "Silverstream knows it was an accident. The gorge is and will always be the worst possible place for a battle. Any cat could have fallen!"

Tinyclaw thought of Sandpaw, and shivered. He got to his paws and paced around Graystripe, who was still washing himself rather diligently.

"It doesn't _matter_ what Silverstream thinks – or you, for that matter," Tinyclaw hissed. "What about your loyalty to ThunderClan? You're breaking the warrior code by seeing her!"

Graystripe's neck fur bristled, and he stopped washing. "You doubt my loyalty?" he growled, narrowing his eyes at Tinyclaw.

Tinyclaw stood firm. "What else can I possibly think? You're breaking the warrior code seeing Silverstream. You can't see her without lying to the Clan – without neglecting your duties! What if there's a battle with RiverClan? How will you face her or her 'Clanmates' then – have you thought about that?"

"You worry too much," Graystripe scoffed. Tinyclaw bristled at his dismissive tone. "It won't come to that – Brokenstar's gone now. WindClan is home. The Clans are at peace!"

Tinyclaw wrinkled his muzzle. "RiverClan doesn't seem to be acting peacefully," he reminded his friend. "They've been scented hunting at Sunningrocks – _our_ territory!"

Graystripe scoffed again. "RiverClan has been hunting at Sunningrocks since long before I was kitted!" he grunted. "It's nothing new." He twisted, stretching to wash the base of his tail.

Tinyclaw heaved a sigh, pacing around his friend once again. How could Graystripe not see that what he was doing was wrong?

_I can't keep harassing him,_ Tinyclaw thought. _He'll just keep walking me in circles with his fish-wacked logic._

"OK," Tinyclaw mewed as levelly as he could manage, "but what if you get caught by a patrol?"

"Silverstream won't let that happen," Graystripe replied, almost automatically.

Tinyclaw had had enough. He planted his paws and almost yowled, "How can you possibly be so _complacent_ about this?"

Graystripe stopped washing. He met Tinyclaw's eyes and stated, with all seriousness, "You just don't get it, do you? StarClan must have _meant_ for Silverstream and I to meet. She wants to see me _even after what happened to Whiteclaw._ She and I… it's as if we're from the same Clan! Our thoughts, our feelings… they're the same! I've never felt so comfortable around another cat before – it's different than hanging out with you."

Tinyclaw realized suddenly that it was utterly hopeless to try and convince Graystripe otherwise. _He loves her,_ he thought. _But… but how can he love her – Crookedstar's daughter – and still remain loyal to ThunderClan?_

He pushed the thought out of his mind as best as he could. Heavily, as if there were stones weighing down his tongue, he meowed, "Let's get back to camp, before you're missed again."

Graystripe, freshly washed, got to his paws again. Together, side by side, they padded up to the top of the ravine. As they walked the steep slope down, Tinyclaw realized he wasn't feeling that same closeness he had felt with his friend before – Graystripe meeting Silverstream had driven a barrier between them, like a wall of ice.

They crept around the boundary wall until they came to the hole behind the nursery where Graystripe had snuck out before. Graystripe went in first without flinching, but Tinyclaw curled his lip at the thought of sneaking into camp as if _he_ had been the one doing something wrong, not Graystripe.

Once through, they rounded the nursery and padded into camp… only to be confronted by Whitestorm.

The white warrior's eyes were narrowed. "Graystripe – you ought to be resting, not hanging about the nursery! Swiftkit and Thornkit are already sick; we don't need any more kits getting ill. That cough of yours has already begun spreading through the camp."

Graystripe said nothing – he nodded as he loped off to the warriors den. Tinyclaw followed him, frowning – when Graystripe had slipped into the warrior's den, Tinyclaw looked back up at Whitestorm, only to find that the warrior was looking at him questioningly.

"You…" Whitestorm began thoughtfully. "Shouldn't you be out with Runningwind training those apprentices of yours?"

Quickly, Tinyclaw recalled the excuse he'd used to get out of that training session. "I've come to get something from Yellowfang," he replied. "My belly doesn't feel well."

"See to it then," Whitestorm meowed. "And once you're done, get out there and get hunting – it's leaf-bare; we can't have young warriors sitting about doing nothing when the Clan needs food."

Tinyclaw dipped his head. "Yes, Whitestorm," he replied.

Relieved to escape the questions, Tinyclaw hurried to the medicine cat's den. Yellowfang was busy inside her fern-shaded corner of the camp, sorting herbs of all kinds with sticky-looking paws. Tinyclaw heard rasping and wheezing, and wondered if she had been mixing poultices all morning to ease to pain of the sick cats.

Yellowfang only glanced up at him before turning her gaze down to her pile. She kept sorting, complaining, "I'm running out of supplies."

Tinyclaw stepped into the den, flicking his tail in agreement. He had seen Spottedleaf sorting the same stack of herbs just the greenleaf before, and the pile had looked twice as big then. Yellowfang had little to work with.

For a moment, Tinyclaw wondered if he might talk to Yellowfang about Graystripe – if any cat could help him, it was Yellowfang - but the old she-cat interrupted his thoughts.

"It seems whitecough has found its way into the camp," Yellowfang grumbled, as if the whitecough was a snake. She prodded at a set of dried leaves. "Two cases this morning!"

"Brightpaw?" Tinyclaw asked.

Yellowfang shook her head. "Thankfully, Brightpaw's only got a cold – no, it's Snowkit… and Patchpelt. Snowkit must have brought it into the elder's den from Thornkit and Swiftkit. It's not serious at the moment but we need to concentrate on getting the Clan back on its paws, and quickly. Whitecough can turn into greencough quickly."

Tinyclaw nodded in agreement – whitecough was bad enough, but greencough was a killer. He thought of deaf Snowkit and looked about the den, finding him and Patchpelt curled up in a corner. Both had soft, mossy nests. Thornkit and Swiftkit were a few paces away, in a warm part of the den with shelter from their neighbor's coughing.

_Her den is getting full,_ Tinyclaw thought.

"What is it you wanted?" Yellowfang wondered, breaking into Tinyclaw's thoughts again.

Tinyclaw jerked back and stammered, "I… I just had a bellyache. It's really… It's really nothing."

"Is it bad?" Yellowfang asked, turning her gaze on him.

"No," Tinyclaw said quickly.

Yellowfang eyed him, but if she sensed anything off about Tinyclaw's demeanor, she didn't say anything. Instead, she turned away and grunted, "Come back when it is, then!"

Tinyclaw sighed as quietly as he could manage.

"And make sure Graystripe stays in his den," Yellowfang added, flicking her tail irritably. "His cough would have been better by now if he'd just stayed put. He's a strong young warrior, and the Clan needs him."

_We do,_ Tinyclaw thought. _We really do…_ How would they get through leaf-bare if Graystripe's loyalties wavered, or he got sicker? A fresh wave of frustration passed through Tinyclaw – didn't Graystripe realize just how _foolish_ he was being?

He waited, wondering if Yellowfang was going to say any more – did she know Graystripe was sneaking out of camp? – but the old she-cat said nothing more. She returned to sorting her herbs, gathering them into piles.

Tinyclaw padded quietly away, back out into the camp. He smelled rain on the breeze as he padded out of camp and into the woods – that, coupled with the evening light filtering between the clouds, told him he had a small amount of time to hunt before heading back to camp. He set off hunting.

It didn't take him long to scrounge up a respectable catch – a mouse had been foolish enough to cross his path, and the chaffinch had been tapping at acorns underneath an oak. The shrew had almost gotten away into its burrow, but Tinyclaw's small paws had caught it just before it had gone too deep into its home.

Darkness was falling as Tinyclaw carried the shrew back to his pile. He could feel the chill in the breeze, smell the rain on the air – he needed to get back to camp, but something was stalling him.

_If Graystripe won't listen to reason, maybe Silverstream will,_ he thought.

He buried the shrew with his prey and, for the second time today, turned himself towards Sunningrocks. The sky broke open as he crept along, sending cold rain splashing against his pelt. Tinyclaw shook it off – his pelt was dark enough already without rain dampening it.

The bracken bobbed steadily as Tinyclaw approached Sunningrocks. He opened his jaws, shocked to still scent Silverstream even with the rain. He followed the river, and her scent, as he crept along. He was thankful the rain was helping to flatten his pelt as he went. He found the place where her scent mingled with Graystripe's, and he looked at the river before him.

_I can't swim that!_ He thought with dismay. It was a dark, rushing, torrent, splashing and sloshing with the rain. His fur was too thin, even with leaf-bare protection – his fur did not shed water like a RiverClan cat's. He would freeze – he was freezing now!

A scent made Tinyclaw freeze – RiverClan warriors!

Tinyclaw jumped back, dropping into a crouch. He backed himself up into the bracken, hoping that it and the rain would conceal him. Beyond, on the other side of the river, Silverstream was pushing her way through a bed of soaked reeds. Behind her strolled a massive brown tabby with a formidable stride, and a smaller, dark gray-black apprentice.

The massive tabby suddenly halted, lifting his head. With amber eyes, he peered about the river. Tinyclaw froze in his hiding spot.

Blood roared in his ears. Had he been spotted?


	17. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

_The RiverClan warrior was peering over_ the river, eyes narrowed and nose twitching. Tinyclaw crouched lower into the bracken, fur standing on end. Had the massive tom seen him? The big tom stopped sniffing, but that didn't relieve Tinyclaw's worry – he was still looking about the area.

_I need to get out of here,_ Tinyclaw thought. He would find Silverstream someway, somehow, later – he couldn't risk being caught by RiverClan.

Carefully, Tinyclaw began backing out of the bracken. Tinyclaw flicked his ears, rain spattering against his pelt. Something was splashing about in the river. _Probably a fish or something,_ he thought. _I'm not sticking around to see if it's that warrior or the apprentice._

Tinyclaw spotted a silver head bobbing in the river, and he dug his claws into the soft earth. Silverstream was crossing! Across the river, the massive tabby and the apprentice were gone – had they moved on, or were they lying in wait to ambush him?

_I can't worry about that,_ Tinyclaw thought in frustration. _Graystripe's health depends on this._ He would take on all of RiverClan for his friend, if he could.

Silverstream climbed up onto the bank, her pelt sleek and wet. She didn't bother shaking any of it off, either – the water streamed from her pelt as she approached, rippling with every step. Her fierce blue gaze was pinned on Tinyclaw.

"I know you're there," she growled.

Tinyclaw lifted his head. He didn't move.

"Tinyclaw, it's alright – Brambleclaw and Shadepaw have gone," Silverstream insisted, her tone lighter. "I wouldn't let anything happen to one of Graystripe's closest friends! For StarClan's sake!"

Tinyclaw padded forward. Her conviction was strong, and he sensed that she was telling the truth. He flicked his tail at her, feeling a mite awkward.

"What are you doing here?" Silverstream demanded, not unkindly. She seemed genuinely concerned for him, and Tinyclaw felt put off by how eager she seemed to worry about him.

"I was looking for you," Tinyclaw told her. He kept his voice low, painfully aware of the fact that he was smack dab in enemy territory.

Silverstream's ears pricked, and alarm passed in her eyes. "Is it Graystripe?" she asked. Before Tinyclaw could reply, she rushed, "Has his cough gotten worse?"

Tinyclaw sighed, frustrated. _I'm sure she really cares about Graystripe,_ he told himself. _But how, _how_ in StarClan's name can she be so daft?_ "He's fine," Tinyclaw growled. "But he won't be, if he carries on seeing you like this!"

Her wet fur stood on end. Silverstream growled, "I wouldn't _let_ anything bad happen to Graystripe!"

Tinyclaw rolled his eyes. He snorted skeptically, "What could _you_ do to protect him?"

Silverstream narrowed her eyes. "I am a Clan leader's daughter," she stated firmly.

"_Daughter,"_ Tinyclaw repeated. "Not _deputy_ – you have no more power over your father's warriors than any other warrior! You're hardly more than an apprentice!"

Silverstream lashed her tail. "Like _you!"_ she retorted.

Tinyclaw sighed, his shoulders sagging. "That's true," he admitted. "I'd do anything to help Graystripe, Silverstream – but I don't think I can protect him against the anger of my Clan… or yours. If they find out… we'll be as powerless as kits."

Silverstream's limbs trembled, but not with chill. She was trying to be angry – trying _so_ hard – but she couldn't manage it. Her eyes clouded over with emotion and she whispered, "I can't stop seeing him, Tinyclaw – I _love_ him."

_That's what I was afraid of,_ Tinyclaw thought, his heart aching for the two mouse-brains. Trying his best not to sound rude, he stated, "The tensions between our two Clans is bad enough already, Silverstream. We _know_ RiverClan is hunting on our territory, and -"

Silverstream raised her head, eyes gleaming defiantly. "If ThunderClan understood why – or _cared_ – they wouldn't begrudge us for what we catch there!" she spat.

"Why, then?" Tinyclaw demanded, forcing himself to keep his voice down. "Why are you stealing our prey?" _What reason could possibly be good enough?_

"My Clan is _starving,_ Tinyclaw," Silverstream urged. Her eyes clouded over with sadness. "Our kits are crying because their mothers haven't enough milk; our elders are dying for lack of a decent meal. It's been _so long_ since any of us have gone to bed with even a half-full belly."

"Why?" Tinyclaw wondered, taken aback. "How are you starving? You have the river!" He had always been told that RiverClan enjoyed the richest pickings of any Clan when it came to prey – the river, with is limitless supply of fat, fat, fish. Not only that, but the woodland prey from the woods in their own territory – how was it that they were starving?

"It's not enough," Silverstream assured him. She lashed her tail. "Twolegs have taken over our downstream territory – they built a camp there and stayed all greenleaf, when the fish were plentiful. When leaf-fall came and they were gone, the fish were scarce. The damage that they inflicted upon the woodland while they were here has forest prey even harder to find. We have _nothing,_ Tinyclaw."

Tinyclaw was shocked. A pang of pity touched his heart, forming into a stone in his stomach. Now he suddenly understood so many things – especially how serious this was for RiverClan. The Clan had grown so used to having a plentiful supply of food, even in leaf-bare. Without it, the Clan didn't know how to survive.

"So that's why," Tinyclaw realized. _"That's_ why Crookedstar didn't want WindClan to come home!"

Silverstream's eyes darkened, and she nodded. "The uplands always have rabbits running through them, even in the cold moons. It wouldn't have been much, but it would have been enough to see us through leaf-bare. We'll lose kits this season for sure now. Crookedstar meant no harm, but he was looking out for RiverClan when he objected to WindClan's return."

Tinyclaw blinked, feeling guilt rising in his throat. He had brought WindClan _home_, and then gone right through RiverClan territory with a WindClan escort. _We must have looked like the harbingers of their doom,_ he thought, a chill in his coat.

"Does… Does Graystripe know all of this?" Tinyclaw wondered.

Silverstream nodded.

Tinyclaw sighed, trying his best to push his sympathy away. The warrior code was more important than either of their feelings – couldn't they see that? For Graystripe's sake, Tinyclaw had to force himself not to be taken in by her words.

"I'm sorry your Clan is having hard times," he offered. He stood firm and lashed his tail. "But still; you _must_ stop seeing Graystripe!"

Silverstream's eyes narrowed. "No," she said stonily, lifting her chin. "Our love isn't doing anyone any harm. I _won't."_

Tinyclaw stamped a paw in frustration. _It's like talking to one of the Sunningrocks!_ He thought, exasperated. He opened his mouth to speak, but Silverstream stood suddenly, fur bristling. Tinyclaw shut his jaws as a fresh RiverClan scent washed over his scent glands.

"You must leave," Silverstream hissed. "My patrol is coming!"

Tinyclaw hissed in frustration, but he backed away. Without saying good-bye – or waiting to be caught by Silverstream's patrol – Tinyclaw turned and fled RiverClan territory.

He raced through the trees until he was sure he was safe in ThunderClan territory. He opened his jaws and caught the scent of his prey-pile, and made his way towards it. Along the way, seething with frustration at the two mouse-brains, he picked up a bit of Twoleg scent.

Tinyclaw paused, looking through the trees towards Twolegplace. Was there time to follow the scent, see if Fiona was around? _No,_ he thought. _She wouldn't be out in this rain. I wonder if she's kitted yet?_

He pushed the thoughts away, furious with himself. _I'm mad at Graystripe and Silverstream for seeing one another, but how can I justify it when I've snuck off to see Fiona every chance I could? I'm just as bad – but Fiona is family, not my mate._

No, he wouldn't see Fiona today, he decided. Tinyclaw headed for his stash of prey – the Clan needed fresh-kill to see itself through this leaf-bare, and Tinyclaw would have to do his part and bring it to them. Rain soaking his pelt, he picked up his catch and headed back to camp, head buzzing with emotions.

* * *

><p>The Clan was sheltering in their dens when Tinyclaw padded into the camp. Whiskers dripping with rainwater, Tinyclaw quickly put his prey on the pile. He found the driest piece he could get and carried it off towards the warrior's den – there was no way he was eating outside right now.<p>

Tinyclaw pushed his head into the den, pausing when he spotted Graystripe. His friend was here, to Tinyclaw's relief, dozing with the smell of herbs heavy on his breath. He seemed relaxed and his breathing sounded much better already.

_Now, if he stopped chasing after Silverstream he might actually get better!_ Tinyclaw thought.

"Yellowfang would appreciate that mouse, youngster," Oakheart meowed. The older warrior was concealed in the shadows at the back of the den, his yellow eyes pale. Tinyclaw met his gaze. Oakheart went on, "She hasn't eaten all day – too busy."

Tinyclaw nodded and backed out of the den. If Yellowfang was busy, then that meant that the sickness in the camp was getting worse. His pelt prickled as he imagined it spreading through the camp like a noxious cloud, swallowing up his Clanmates.

_No,_ he told himself, shaking the vision away. _Yellowfang can handle it. She's just short-pawed, that's all._

Tinyclaw took another mouse from the fresh-kill pile by the tail. Gripping both mice between his jaws, he trotted quickly towards the sheltered medicine clearing. Through the fern tunnel he went, water smearing onto his pelt as he brushed past the fronds.

Yellowfang was sitting in the den, crouched over a little wheezing kit. Tinyclaw recognized Thornkit, one of Brackenpaw's and Cinderpaw's brothers. He was separated from the other patients, his eyes and nose streaming. His pelt was unkempt and pale, like Brackenpaw's, with stronger markings.

Orange eyes were on Tinyclaw when he entered. Yellowfang looked appreciatively at the mice in the young warrior's jaws. "Are those for me?" she wondered.

Tinyclaw nodded. He dropped the mice at his paws.

"Thanks," the medicine cat rasped. "Now that you're here, care to lend a paw? This little one is having a hard time listening to me when I tell him to eat his medicine."

Tinyclaw nodded, knowing that the request was more of an order. Yellowfang headed for the mice, limping slightly on an old shoulder injury. She collected them in her oddly-flat muzzle and settled down to gnaw at the meat. Tinyclaw padded over to the kit.

Thornkit looked up at Tinyclaw, eyes wide and streaming. He sniffled. A pile of leaves and berries lay beside the mossy nest. Tinyclaw hooked a leaf up in his claws and showed it to the kit.

"If you want to be a strong warrior, you're going to need to get used to swallowing these things," Tinyclaw told the kit. "They taste terrible, yeah; but when you make your trip to the Moonstone you'll have to eat herbs far worse than this."

Thornkit blinked blearily.

"Think of it as practice," Tinyclaw urged. "For when you become a warrior."

The kit sniffed the leaf pile, then took a tentative mouthful.

Tinyclaw gave him an encouraging purr.

"Good job," Yellowfang mewed. She was at Tinyclaw's side, her breath smelling of mouse.

Her matted tail touched Tinyclaw's shoulder, and he followed her to the other side of the den, away from the kit. They crept into the shelter of Yellowfang's den, hidden away in a tall cracked rock. Rain pattered on outside, drenching the forest.

Yellowfang settled in her nest. Tinyclaw could hardly make her out in the dim light as she began grooming her dirty, matted, tail.

Her orange eyes glowed as she looked up at Tinyclaw. "Tigerstar has whitecough," she meowed gravely.

Tinyclaw swallowed. "Whitecough isn't so serious, is it?"

Yellowfang heaved a sigh. "It came on very quickly," she rasped. "It's affected him badly."

Tinyclaw's tail rippled with worry. Grimly, he recalled how few lives that Tigerstar had left.

"I warned him to stay away, but he insisted on seeing the other sick cats," Yellowfang mewed. She sounded irritated. "He insisted he was fine, but it hit him hard. He's in his den at the moment – Whitestorm is with him."

There was fear in Yellowfang's eyes, Tinyclaw could see it. Even if she was frustrated by Tigerstar's determination, she was worried for his safety. Tinyclaw's spine rippled.

_Does she know how many lives Tigerstar has left?_ Tinyclaw wondered. _Truly?_ Did medicine cats have the ability to sense these things? Tigerstar had confessed to Tinyclaw that he had lied about how many lives he had left – the Clan thought he had three, but the truth was he only had two.

If Tigerstar lost this one, then he would only have one more life left.


	18. Chapter 16

**Happy holidays, guys - enjoy this particular chapter!**

**Some of you saw this coming (some of you have predicted a lot of things that may or may not be correct) but this is really the first of the bigger in-story twists!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 16<strong>

_It rained long into the night_ and into the morning after, until sunhigh. The cold drizzle eased off as the sun reached its peak in the sky, clouds moving away to allow its light to warm the world. The whole Clan seemed to be in a moon, though – the news of Tigerstar's illness had spread, and every cat seemed to have a worried look on their face.

Tinyclaw padded out of the warrior's den, where he'd been sheltering since dawn. The world was wet and chilly, but the weak sun felt good on his pelt. He headed for the Highrock, stopping beside the entrance to Tigerstar's den. He could scent Whitestorm in there, along with the queen Frostfur. He could hear nothing.

"Anything?" whispered Willowpelt.

Tinyclaw caught her eye. She had prey by her paws, meant for the nursery. Her head was tipped questioningly.

"Nothing, I'm afraid," Tinyclaw replied.

Willowpelt sighed and picked up the prey. She trotted to the nursery, tail low. The entire Clan seemed to be hoping for good news, but Tinyclaw felt his fears doubled – the Clan thought that Tigerstar had a life to spare, but only a few cats knew that he didn't.

Tinyclaw glanced at the apprentice's den. Brackenpaw and Cinderpaw were there, lounging outside the den. Tinyclaw had given them the day off, wanting to stick around for news of Tigerstar's condition – but it seemed like the apprentices were bored.

_I'm sorry,_ he thought, hoping they understood. _I want to be here if Tigerstar loses a life._ At least Bluefur was nowhere to be found – she had taken the dawn patrol out near the ShadowClan border.

Tinyclaw was startled as the lichen in front of Tigerstar's den twitched. He moved out of the way as Frostfur burst from the den, tail bushed. She raced to the medicine cat's den. Before Tinyclaw could ask what happened, Frostfur reappeared with Yellowfang just behind. They reentered the den.

He took a step closer, heart pounding. Tinyclaw was about to peek inside, but Whitestorm appeared at the entrance. His face was tired and grim.

"What's going on?" Tinyclaw wondered quietly.

"Tigerstar has greencough," Whitestorm reported. "Stand watch – make sure no cat comes inside."

Tinyclaw's eyes widened as Whitestorm ducked back into the den. Greencough – oh no! Tinyclaw settled himself just outside the den, blood roaring in his ears. _He just might lose this life, then… Who knows what will happen if it somehow takes all he has left…_

A sharp yowl caused Tinyclaw to raise his head. Dustpaw exploded from the camp entrance, eyes wide and tail fluffed. The tom would have rammed straight into Tinyclaw had he not noticed the warrior standing there.

Tinyclaw coughed at the dust kicked up by the bigger apprentice. Gagging, he rasped, "What's wrong?"

"I've got a message for Tigerstar," Dustpaw panted, "from Bluefur!"

Tinyclaw twitched his tail. "He's sick – you can't go in," Tinyclaw told him.

Dustpaw narrowed his eyes. "It's _urgent!"_ he hissed. "Bluefur needs to see Tigerstar at the Thunderpath. Now!"

"I told you, you can't come in," Tinyclaw hissed back. "What's so wrong that she needs Tigerstar?"

"None of your business!" spat Dustpaw. The tabby tom looked utterly angry. "Bluefur needs Tigerstar, not some _kittypet!"_

Tinyclaw's hackles raised, but before he could spit a retort Yellowfang pushed her way out of the leader's den. She looked between the two cats, orange eyes narrowed.

"No cat is seeing Tigerstar right now," she affirmed with a grunt, glaring at Dustpaw. "Lower your fur, Dustpaw."

Dustpaw lashed his tail. His fur flattened, but he insisted, "Bluefur found evidence of ShadowClan warriors hunting in our territory, near the Thunderpath! She wants Tigerstar to check it out!"

Tinyclaw's ears pricked. _ShadowClan in our territory?_ He thought. _How dare they – after everything we've done for them!_

Yellowfang ignored Dustpaw's report. She turned to Tinyclaw and asked, "Tell me, Tinyclaw – do you know where any catnip might grow in the Twolegplace?"

"Catnip?" Tinyclaw repeated. He pulled himself out of his anger at ShadowClan and fear for Tigerstar to think.

"I need it for Tigerstar," Yellowfang went on. "I haven't used it in moons, but it's very useful for curing illness. It has soft leaves, a tempting scent…"

Tinyclaw's ears pricked. "I know where to find some," he interrupted. He had not seen it in the woods before, but as a kit a patch had grown wild in his old garden. He was sure it was still there.

"Good," Yellowfang mewed, nodding. "I need as much as you can carry, and as fast as you can get it."

"What about Bluefur?" Dustpaw demanded.

Yellowfang stamped a paw and flashed back, "Bluefur will have to handle it on her own for the moment!"

"Deal with what?"

Tinyclaw looked beyond Dustpaw and found that Brackenpaw and Cinderpaw were approached. Cinderpaw's eyes were round, her head tipped in curiosity. Tinyclaw shot them a look – he didn't need them aggravating Dustpaw right now.

"ShadowClan could be in our territory _right now,"_ Dustpaw hissed to them.

The apprentices' eyes widened, and they shared a look.

"Where's Oakheart?" Tinyclaw wondered. Whitestorm was with Tigerstar and Tinyclaw knew he would be reluctant to leave. Perhaps Oakheart could go to Bluefur?

Dustpaw replied, "He's out with Sandpaw and Mousefur, patrolling Sunningrocks."

Yellowfang sighed. "With so many warriors out of camp I can't risk sending more if Tinyclaw is fetching catnip. If ShadowClan _is_ in our territory, they might attack here – they've done it before."

"I'm getting the catnip," Tinyclaw told her. "But when I'm done, I can swing by and meet with Bluefur." He didn't want to deal with his former mentor, but he couldn't ignore the fact that she might be in danger. _I think the only reason she got away with being on that patrol in the first place is because Tigerstar is too sick to tell her not to go,_ Tinyclaw thought. _I won't let a queen deal with ShadowClan._

Dustpaw didn't like that idea. His eyes flashed and he growled, "She wants to see _Tigerstar!_ He needs to see the evidence that ShadowClan left behind!"

Yellowfang growled at the apprentice. "The word of the deputy ought to be enough," she snapped. "Tigerstar _cannot_ leave the camp!"

"Bluefur just needs to know that Tigerstar can't come," Tinyclaw assured Dustpaw. "I'll take the message to her after I've fetched the catnip. Where is she?"

Dustpaw lashed his tail, his hackles bristling with hostility. "I'll go!" he spat. "You think you're better than me just because you're a warrior? _I_ can handle it!"

Yellowfang lashed her tail, whipping it into Dustpaw's muzzle. _"Enough!"_ she spat, worn out from the quarrel. "The Clan will need protecting while Tinyclaw is gone – isn't that enough for you? If it's not, I can always assign you to clean out the elder's den!" Dustpaw shrank. Yellowfang snarled, _"Where is Bluefur?"_

Dustpaw looked like a kit cowering beneath his angry mother. Tinyclaw couldn't help but take a little satisfaction from that.

Finally, he replied, "B-Beside the burned ash tree that hangs over the Thunderpath."

Tinyclaw nodded and rushed away.

"Wait!"

Tinyclaw skidded to a halt just before the camp entrance. He turned around and saw Cinderpaw and Brackenpaw a pace behind him.

"Go back to your den, both of you," Tinyclaw ordered.

"But one of us could give the message!" Brackenpaw blurted. "We know where the ash is! You could get the catnip without worrying."

"I know you want to help, but you need to stay here," Tinyclaw insisted.

"But -" Cinderpaw opened her jaws.

"Stay!" Tinyclaw interrupted.

Brackenpaw took a step forward. "It would go a lot smoother," he meowed. "Please! Let one of us go!"

"You have your orders!" Tinyclaw snapped, spine bristling. "Now _stay!"_

He turned away. He didn't have time to see if Brackenpaw was hurt by his tone – he needed to get the catnip for Tigerstar before it was too late. Tinyclaw pushed through the thorn tunnel and out into the forest.

* * *

><p>Tinyclaw reached the Twolegplace in record time, limbs burning. He felt he would burst when he slowed down to leap onto a fence, drinking in the smells of the Twolegplace. Heart pounding, he made his way to his kithood home – to his relief, the yard looked much the same.<p>

He ignored the waves of nostalgia as they washed over him. Tinyclaw leaped down into the yard, jaws open. He searched for the smell, so fresh and tantalizing… there it was!

Tinyclaw found the clump of catnip behind a large bush. He quickly nipped off as many of the soft leaves as he could carry, grateful that the frosts hadn't utterly killed it yet. The smell of the leaves flooded him, making his mouth water as Tinyclaw picked the leaves up in his jaws.

He leaped the fence and tore for home, pushing through brambles without a thought at the scratches they gave him as he rushed by. He felt as if his paws had wings, but his lungs were full of fire – with the leaves in his mouth, he could only breathe through his nose.

The thorn tunnel loomed ahead, and Tinyclaw dashed through without a thought. He stopped only when he reached Yellowfang, who was waiting just outside the Highrock. The old she-cat looked astounded at the speed in which Tinyclaw had accomplished his task.

Tinyclaw spat the leaves out before Yellowfang and nearly collapsed – but he held himself up to catch his breath. _If only I were WindClan!_ he thought, panting.

Yellowfang purred at the sight of the leaves. She gave them a sniff and then touched her nose to Tinyclaw's shoulder. "These will do marvelously," she purred. She took the leaves and pushed through the lichen.

Tinyclaw then turned and headed for the entrance again. His task was not yet done. Still panting, he drew in the scents of his Clan – his scent, freshest of all, with underlying hints of Cinderpaw and Brackenpaw.

Wait.

_Cinderpaw and Brackenpaw?_

Tinyclaw frowned. Why were their scents so fresh in the tunnel?

He turned to the apprentice's den. Dustpaw was there, clawing at the ground with boredom – he must have been pretending the grass was Tinyclaw's pelt. Tinyclaw was in no mood for Dustpaw's attitude, though.

"Where are Brackenpaw and Cinderpaw?" Tinyclaw demanded.

Dustpaw narrowed his eyes at Tinyclaw. "Like I know!" he huffed. "I thought they were going with you."

Tinyclaw swallowed.

"What?" Dustpaw asked. With a sneer, he wondered, "Frog got your tongue?"

Tinyclaw turned away from Dustpaw. He didn't have time for this! He rushed to the warrior's den, poking his nose inside.

It was empty.

_Of course,_ Tinyclaw thought angrily. _When I need Graystripe, he's off with Silverstream!_

Tinyclaw lashed his tail and headed away. He pushed through the tunnel, ignoring the scents of the disobedient apprentices. They would have to handle themselves until Tinyclaw had delivered the message to Bluefur. He put his paws on the trail to the Thunderpath.

He noticed something strange as he followed the trail up the ravine and through the woods – Brackenpaw's and Cinderpaw's scents were lingering in the air, fresh and strong. Tinyclaw's tail fluffed as he realized that it was heading for the Thunderpath, just like he was.

_They went! _He thought, angrily. _They disobeyed me and went anyway!_ Oh, he would have their pelts for this!

He skirted Snakerocks, the harsh tang of the Thunderpath getting stronger with every step. He was fuming beneath his pelt. Brackenpaw was so sensible – how could he disobey an order from his mentor like that? And Cinderpaw – Cinderpaw! He had expected it from her, but she knew well enough to listen to her brother! Had they both just decided to utterly disregard his orders?

_When I catch them they'll wish they'd met ShadowClan!_

A shriek pierced the air as the Thunderpath came into view. Tinyclaw stopped, stock still, as the whole forest went quiet, the scream echoing through the trees. A chill rippled through Tinyclaw, and his heart beat in his ears – _I've heard that scream before!_

Tinyclaw rushed to the Thunderpath. Out of the trees and into the open he burst, the harsh smell of the Thunderpath gagging him. He paused, looking up and down the Thunderpath for the ash tree Dustpaw had described. He saw it to his left, blackened and dead from a lightning strike long ago. Tinyclaw trotted towards it.

In the distance, he spotted Bluefur – she was a little ways away from the ash, padding calmly towards the tree. Tinyclaw frowned – the verge here was very narrow, but Bluefur didn't seem bothered by that.

"Did you hear that cry?" Tinyclaw called to her. "Bluefur!"

Bluefur stopped by the dead ash. She did not seem to hear him – but as Tinyclaw got closer, he saw that her expression was twisted in shock and horror.

Alarm coursed through Tinyclaw's limbs.

There were two shapes – one dark, one pale – beside the ash. They were huddled together, the dark shape shaking and shivering and whimpering. The other, the pale shape, lay motionless beside the Thunderpath.

Bile rose in Tinyclaw's throat.

It was Brackenpaw.


	19. Chapter 17

**Just calm down and see what happens. I think you'll find it's not inaccurate at all.**

**Hope everyone had a safe, happy holiday!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 17<strong>

_"__S-Someone, please! Please, help! I-I… _I…" Cinderpaw was hysterical, her eyes wide and fur bushed out to its limits. She was shaking, shivering, standing over the limp body of her brother. She lifted her muzzle to the sky and yowled, _"Help me!"_

Throat dry, Tinyclaw burst forward. The world blurred around him as he skidded to a halt beside Cinderpaw. He stared down at Brackenpaw, trembling with shock. Brackenpaw's pale fur was ruffled and spiked with bits of blood – one of his hind legs was twisted, slick with red blood. Bluefur bent her nose and sniffed the apprentice.

"He's still breathing," she reported, amazement in her voice. She looked up at Cinderpaw, who was choking with horror. She insisted, "He's still _alive."_

It didn't seem to calm Cinderpaw. Bluefur sighed and narrowed her eyes at Tinyclaw instead. "What are they doing here?" she demanded.

Tinyclaw swallowed. It took him a moment to reply. He was unable to pry his eyes away from his apprentice's body, that twisted leg… "He… They… they came to find _you."_ He said hoarsely.

"You sent them here, then?" Bluefur asked.

Tinyclaw tore his eyes away. Was that really what she was worried about right now, who sent the apprentices? Did Bluefur think him mouse-brained? "I told them to stay in camp," he insisted. "They came on their own."

"It was my fault," sobbed Cinderpaw. "Brackenpaw, Brackenpaw…"

Bluefur snorted at the belligerent apprentice. "I suppose we'll settle this later," she decided. She gently prodded Brackenpaw's limp form. "We need to get him back to camp as soon as possible. Her, too – if she'll come."

The blue-gray she-cat bent her head, but Tinyclaw thrust his way forward, pushing her muzzle away. She opened her mouth to spit, but Tinyclaw reminded her gruffly, "You can't hope to lift him _or_ drag him… not in your condition."

Bluefur said nothing. Tinyclaw gripped Brackenpaw's scruff in his jaws and began gently, _gently_ dragging the apprentice away from the verge. If Brackenpaw was in pain, he gave no indication of it.

"Come on," mumbled Bluefur. She nudged Cinderpaw to her paws and guided the young she-cat after her brother.

Cinderpaw would not stray from her brother's side. His form seemed to be the only thing her eyes could focus on – she stumbled through the forest like a cat stricken blind. Bluefur guided her and Tinyclaw as best as she could, helping them avoid roots and stones that might impede their progress.

Tinyclaw's jaws were aching when the scents of camp flooded over him, drowning out the smell of Brackenpaw and his bloodied leg. Brackenpaw's body scored a shallow ditch in the undergrowth, leaving blooded brown leaves as he passed over them. Not once did the apprentice show any sign of waking up.

"Bluefur!" Darkstripe appeared, pushing through the undergrowth. He was all eagerness, all smiles, and when he reported to Bluefur he failed to notice the horror-stricken apprentice and the broken body of Brackenpaw. "I've checked Snakerocks – there's no sign of ShadowClan. Not a whiff!"

Bluefur lashed her tail. "Go on ahead, into camp – get Yellowfang immediately, and another warrior to help Tinyclaw. Now."

Darkstripe flicked an ear. "Help Tinyclaw…? With what -"

His jaws shut as his amber eyes passed over Brackenpaw. Darkstripe swallowed, his eyes widened.

"Oh," was all he managed.

Darkstripe had made good on the order and brought out another warrior to help Tinyclaw carry Brackenpaw into the medicine cat's den. Mousefur and Tinyclaw set him down on the other side of the clearing, away from the sick cats. Mousefur murmured her condolences and left Tinyclaw to his apprentice.

Numb from nose to tail, Tinyclaw circled his apprentice, pushing bracken and moss all around Brackenpaw's body, hoping to make him more comfortable. Brackenpaw was silent, still, and gave no feedback on his condition other than the slow, slow rise and fall of his side.

Yellowfang padded out of the crack in her den. Herbs were stuffed in her mouth, and Tinyclaw edged away as she approached.

"Yellowfang," he breathed, throat tight.

The old she-cat put the herbs down at her paws. "Bluefur told me what happened," she rasped. Her eyes were filled with sadness. "Let me have a look."

Tinyclaw nodded in agreement and stepped out of the way. Yellowfang crouched down beside Brackenpaw. She sniffed the apprentice up and down, pressed her ear to his side, and finally looked at his leg. She lashed her tail, then turned back to Tinyclaw.

"I think I can save him," she grunted. "But I need to work fast."

Tinyclaw pricked his ears, hope fluttering in his chest.

Yellowfang sighed. "It's only a thought, Tinyclaw," she rasped. "I _might_ be able to do it. It's no guarantee. He's very, very hurt. I can't – I won't – promise anything."

She turned away.

"Tigerstar is very ill," she meowed, so quiet that Tinyclaw had to strain to hear. "I can do no more for him. StarClan decides his fate now."

Tinyclaw couldn't help but sigh. Things couldn't get worse, could they? He swallowed tightly, finding that he felt tired and hopeless.

"Sit with him," Yellowfang offered. "Tigerstar, I mean. Whitestorm tells me he was asking after you. I will take care of Brackenpaw."

Tinyclaw opened his mouth to object, but common sense won. Yellowfang had a stressful patient, and she would need all the silence she could get. He murmured a good-bye and turned away, tail low. He padded out of the medicine cat's den.

_Tigerstar asked for me,_ he thought as he pushed out of the ferns. _But Brackenpaw… oh Brackenpaw… I could see Cinderpaw doing something like this, but you?_

_Why did it have to be _you?

Tinyclaw nearly ran into Bluefur at the end of the fern tunnel. The she-cat was staring into the den with her head held high and eyes narrowed. She only grunted when Tinyclaw went by, and Tinyclaw couldn't help but feel frustration well up in his bones.

_Can't she be sympathetic for once?_ He thought, glaring daggers at his former mentor's backside. _All this, just because she thought she smelled ShadowClan!_

He stopped.

Come to think of it, he hadn't smelled ShadowClan at all near the charred ash tree. No fresh-kill bones, like Dustpaw had insisted Bluefur had seen. Nothing.

Tinyclaw shook his head. No, he didn't want to think about that right now. There was too much going on, and Tinyclaw just needed to focus on one thing at a time. Tigerstar was his priority, and when he was done in there he could see Brackenpaw. Then he could worry about all this.

Longtail was standing guard outside of Tigerstar's den, but the silver tabby did nothing to stop Tinyclaw from pushing his way through the lichen-shaded entrance.

It was warm and quiet in the den. Whitestorm was curled around Tigerstar, his nose pressed against his old friend's forehead. From the scents in the den, Whitestorm hadn't left this place for some time. Willowpelt had been inside, from the smell of it, along with Speckletail.

_Will Frostfur be with Brackenpaw now,_ Tinyclaw wondered, _or is she comforting Cinderpaw?_

"Yellowfang has given him catnip and feverfew for his fever," Whitestorm reported quietly. He sat up and sighed, "We can only watch and wait now."

The white warrior padded forward and touched his muzzle to Tinyclaw's. "Will you be all right to sit with him?" the warrior asked.

Tinyclaw nodded, and Whitestorm padded past and left the den. Swallowing, Tinyclaw laid himself down, stretching out his paws just so that the white toes of his off-colored forepaw just barely scraped Tigerstar's whiskers.

He fixated his eyes upon his leader – once a massive, beastly cat, Tigerstar seemed… deflated. Limp. Tired. He didn't look like he had the strength to even cough, and the breaths that stirred Tinyclaw's fur were slow and shallow.

Tinyclaw closed his eyes and focused on the rasping breaths.

* * *

><p>Tigerstar's breathing stopped sometime before dawn. Tinyclaw opened his eyes, suddenly met with jarring silence. He had nearly dozed off – or had he dozed off, and the silence had woken him? Tinyclaw wasn't sure.<p>

The world was quiet all around – as if even the wind was holding its breath. Tinyclaw swallowed, knowing that Tigerstar was with StarClan, preparing for his final life. Tinyclaw had seen this process before – when Tigerstar had been attacked by rats – and the young warrior found that it was still just as chilling.

Just as it seemed like peace had taken over Tigerstar's body, the massive tabby jerked. His eyes opened, and he drew in a great breath.

"Tinyclaw," he croaked, his voice sore and rasping, "is that you?"

"Yes," Tinyclaw replied. "I'm here."

Tigerstar lifted his head and sighed. "I have lost another life," he rumbled. His amber eyes flashed. "I have one more remaining – when I lose this one, I will be gone forever."

"How do you feel?" Tinyclaw asked, trying to mask his worry. The thought of losing such a great cat pained him – ThunderClan would miss Tigerstar when he was gone. Tinyclaw knew he would miss the cat that had brought him into this new life. "Shall I fetch Yellowfang?"

"No," Tigerstar replied, shaking his head. "The fever is gone, but I must rest. When I awaken, I will be much stronger."

Tinyclaw dipped his head in assent.

Tigerstar blinked at Tinyclaw. "You must be tired," he rumbled. "Go; rest."

Tinyclaw could not object – his limbs were aching with cold and tiredness. He lifted himself to his paws as Tigerstar settled himself in his nest. Tinyclaw glanced behind him, finding that light was filtering in through the lichen.

"Is there anything you need?" Tinyclaw wondered.

"No," Tigerstar replied. "But tell Yellowfang what has happened."

"I will," Tinyclaw promised. She needed to know, and it would give him the excuse he needed to go and see Brackenpaw.

"Thank you for sitting with me," Tigerstar rumbled.

Tinyclaw smiled softly at the sound of happiness in Tigerstar's voice. Tinyclaw tried to purr – but the thought of Brackenpaw made it catch in his throat. _I should have been with him,_ he thought.

Pushing his way through the lichen, Tinyclaw was hit with a wall of cold. His paws sank into the powdery substance that covered the ground in a thin, frosty layer. It had snowed during the night, and Tinyclaw took it in with a deep breath.

_I've never seen snow before,_ he realized. The white stuff covered the clearing, and it seemed like they were due for more. He squinted as the harsh sunlight reflected off of the white surface, nearly blinding him when he looked at the right angles.

The rest of the Clan seemed unhappy about the development in the weather. They were gathered, fur fluffed up, around Bluefur as the deputy rattled off her orders for the day. She talked about padding the nursery wall with leaves to keep out the cold, then she went on to talk about prey: "I want a hole where we can store prey," she meowed. "Scrape it out somewhere in the clearing, then line it with snow. We'll cover it with more once it's been filled – the snow's here for a while, so it might as well make itself useful."

Warriors raced around, following Bluefur's orders with fluffed pelts and foggy breath.

"Mousefur! Oakheart! Organize hunting patrols," Bluefur ordered. "We need as much fresh-kill as we can get before the prey burrows down for good!"

She swung her head around, catching every warrior with her blue gaze before she ordered them about. When her gaze rested on Tinyclaw, it was neutral and blank.

"Tinyclaw – where are you going?" she demanded.

"To see Brackenpaw," Tinyclaw replied. "Then to rest – Tigerstar's orders."

"How is he?" Bluefur wondered.

Bile rose in Tinyclaw's throat. He knew she was talking about Tigerstar, not Brackenpaw – why couldn't she show one little bit of emotion for the wounded apprentice? Was it really that hard? _Would she have cared if he had been her apprentice?_

"I'm no medicine cat," Tinyclaw replied stiffly. "I can't say."

Bluefur flicked her tail-tip, but said nothing. She turned away, and Tinyclaw headed for the medicine den, not wanting to deal with any more cats than were necessary.

Pushing through the fern tunnel, Tinyclaw realized he had no idea what state Brackenpaw would be in when he entered. _What if he's dead?_ Tinyclaw thought.

No – he shook his head. Yellowfang wouldn't let Brackenpaw die.

"Yellowfang?" he asked, poking his head through the ferns.

He was greeted by an irritated hiss. The gray she-cat removed herself from Brackenpaw's nest and padded up to meet Tinyclaw in the den. Tinyclaw padded in quietly.

Yellowfang was bristling as she growled, "Hush! I _just_ got him to sleep. Last night was very rough for him – I couldn't give him poppy seeds until he'd recovered from the shock."

Tinyclaw looked over at his apprentice, hope flaring in his heart. "So… So he'll live?"

"I can't be sure," Yellowfang insisted. "He's hurt inside, and his back leg is… badly mangled."

"It'll mend, won't it?" Tinyclaw wondered. He stared at the mangled leg, looking like a bit of ivy tangled up with itself. "He'll be training again by newleaf?"

Yellowfang touched her tail to his shoulder. She shook her head and rasped, "Tinyclaw… whatever happens now, Brackenpaw… Brackenpaw will not be a warrior."

"No," he whispered, dizzy with shock. He stumbled on his paws – her words hit him like a blow. He looked at Brackenpaw, remembering the day the little cat was apprenticed. He was so proud, so happy to be a warrior… Tinyclaw pictured Frostfur's beaming face, and he almost crumpled.

"Frostfur was here until dawn," Yellowfang went on, her voice breaking through the fog of Tinyclaw's mind. "But she went to sit with Cinderpaw for a while. I told the little scrap to sleep in the nursery for a day or two. I thought it might help to have her mother near. I'll ask one of the elders to sleep with Brackenpaw – he needs to be kept warm."

"Don't bother," Tinyclaw said, tired. "I'll do it."

He didn't let Yellowfang protest. He climbed into Brackenpaw's nest and settled around the awkward angle Brackenpaw had been arranged in. He squirmed, his sides heaving quickly, as if he were fighting a battle in his dreams.

"You need to rest," Yellowfang grunted.

Brackenpaw was warm. Tinyclaw stayed put.

"Tigerstar lost a life," he reported. He looked at Yellowfang, measured her reaction. She only blinked herself, lifting her head to StarClan. Tinyclaw flicked his tail. "You know, don't you?"

Yellowfang brought her head down, gazing at Tinyclaw with her round orange eyes. "That this is Tigerstar's last life? Yes. A medicine cat can tell these things."

A little bit of fear passed through Tinyclaw. "Will the rest of the Clan be able to tell as well?" he wondered.

Yellowfang shook her head. "No," she replied. "Tigerstar will be no more weaker in this life than in his last."

Tinyclaw sighed with relief.

"Do you want a poppy seed?" Yellowfang wondered.

Tinyclaw shook his head. "No," he answered. "I'll be fine."

_Besides,_ Tinyclaw thought, resting his head on his paws. _If Bluefur is right, and ShadowClan _is_ about to attack… I don't want to be sleeping for that._

* * *

><p>Graystripe was in the warrior's den when Tinyclaw returned. His limbs felt stiff from lying with Brackenpaw for some of the day, and seeing Graystripe only added fuel to the frustration in Tinyclaw's heart. He couldn't look at his friend – maybe if he'd been there, in the den, instead of out with Silverstream…<p>

Tinyclaw circled in his nest, settling down with a sigh to wash the smell of blood and herbs from his pelt.

"You're back," Graystripe edged.

Tinyclaw flicked an ear. _Don't even start with me, Graystripe,_ he thought. _You have _no_ idea what has happened to me…_

"You tried warning Silverstream off," Graystripe hissed. He was furious, gripping his nest with his claws. Willowpelt shifted, catching Graystripe's attention – but when Willowpelt didn't awaken, Graystripe turned back to Tinyclaw. "I told you to stay out of it – I'm seeing her, no matter what you say."

Tinyclaw curled his lip. Fury rose, white-hot. It flashed behind his eyes and seared him from head to toe. His talk with Silverstream had seemed like it was ages ago, but after dealing with Bluefur's ambivalence, Brackenpaw's accident, and Tigerstar's loss, Tinyclaw wasn't willing to keep his jaws shut when his friend was being so clearly mouse-brained.

"Do what you like," Tinyclaw growled contemptuously. "Become a fish yourself, for all I care. I've had _enough_ of this for one day, without dealing with your stubborn ignorance."

Graystripe's neck fur bristled. "What's _wrong_ with you?" he hissed.

Tinyclaw narrowed his eyes. "Maybe if you were _around_ when I needed you – or around _at all_ - you would know."

Graystripe opened his mouth, but Tinyclaw ignored what he had said. He was just… done. It was too much to deal with.

Tinyclaw rested his head on his paws, closing his eyes.


	20. Chapter 18

**Happy new year, everyone! I've recently had a little bit of surgery - got a very troublesome tooth removed. I'm fine and recovering quite well! _Very_ quickly, according to some. I'll be taking it easy until I'm completely recovered, so I wouldn't expect too many updates from me for a week or two. This story is the easiest to write, so I'll be working mostly on this - but updates of other stories are coming!**

**Anyway, here you are!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 18<strong>

_Graystripe was gone when Tinyclaw_ woke – thank StarClan. He didn't know if he could bear facing his friend after what he'd said last night. Tinyclaw knew he'd been short, but he wished he hadn't been _so_ short with Graystripe. Whatever was happening with Silverstream, Tinyclaw didn't want to lose his friend.

His body was weary with grief as he rose from his nest. Sunlight streamed in through the branches of the warrior's den, but the entrance was a white wall of snow. It must have fallen in the night, for it lay thickly across the camp.

He looked past the wall of snow to see life in the camp going on as usual, despite the frosty barrier. Willowpelt and Halftail were huddled together near the elder's den, whispering to each other. Mousefur was making her way through the snow, a bird in her jaws. She stopped, sneezed, then carried on to the fresh-kill pile.

Tinyclaw lifted a paw and rested it against the surface of the snow wall blocking the den. It was cold and frosty against his paw pads. His ears twitched as he heard a faint cracking sound – then his paw plunged into the drift. He gasped, but his paws hit solid ground soon enough.

He pulled himself out of the den and into the snow. Cold surrounded him, piercing his fur. _I'm up to my ears in snow!_ Tinyclaw thought.

Tinyclaw pushed himself up as best as he could, thrusting through the snow until he was at the edge of the clearing. It clung to his fur in clumps, and he sat down to clean himself off once he was free of the drift.

The crunch of the snow alerted Tinyclaw to Graystripe before the gray tom got too close. Tinyclaw tensed, all his frustration and anger at the thick-pelted warrior resurfacing. Graystripe was heading for Tinyclaw, seemingly unbothered by the cold.

"Have you heard?" Graystripe wondered. "Tigerstar lost a life."

Tinyclaw flattened his ears. _I could have told you that last night!_ He thought bitterly. "I know," he meowed back, terse. "I was with him."

Graystripe's eyes widened. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, shocked.

"You weren't exactly in a talkative mood," Tinyclaw reminded him. "If you weren't out always breaking the warrior code, you might know what was going on in your own Clan without having to find out the morning after!"

Graystripe twitched his ears uncomfortably. He frowned. Then, he said, "I've seen Brackenpaw. I'm sorry…"

"How is he doing?"

"Yellowfang said he was pulling through, but he looked so hurt and sick," Graystripe replied. His eyes flashed. "I'm sorry, Tinyclaw."

Tinyclaw stiffened and stood, staring across the clearing. He raised a paw.

"Yellowfang said he shouldn't have too many visitors," Graystripe insisted. "Frostfur is with him now."

Tinyclaw lashed his tail, a feeling of despair fluttering in his chest. How could he explain what had happened to Brackenpaw to his mother? Frostfur was already so distressed… there had to be no way she wanted to see Tinyclaw now.

He turned to Graystripe, seeking reassurance – but the gray warrior was already lumbering off towards the nursery. _Off to see Silverstream, no doubt,_ Tinyclaw thought, bristling. _The day has hardly even begun!_

Tinyclaw was so absorbed with staring after Graystripe that he didn't see Speckletail until she was right in front of his nose. The old queen, mother of the greencough-addled Snowkit, had come out from the nursery to see him.

"Is Bluefur inside?" Speckletail asked. He nodded to the warrior's den.

Tinyclaw shook his head. He didn't recall seeing her.

Speckletail sighed. She mewed, "There's greencough in the nursery. Two of Brindleface's kits are sick."

Tinyclaw's ears pricked. "Greencough," he breathed. "Will they die?"

Speckletail frowned. "I'm not sure," she admitted. "Leaf-bare always brings greencough, and that risk."

"There has to be something we can do!" Tinyclaw insisted.

Speckletail looked at him as if he were overreacting. She soothed, "Yellowfang will do her best, I'm sure. There's not much more that can be done but hope for the best."

The old queen headed off across the camp, leaving Tinyclaw to fume. How could the Clan just sit by, so intent to just watch all this tragedy unfold before their eyes? He expected more action, more initiative, than this!

He headed for the camp entrance, feeling the air closing in on him with its gloomy, cynical stench. He pushed through the thorn tunnel and out into the clear, open air. Startled, he realized his paws had taken him up the ravine, just near the training hollow.

_I should be here, training Brackenpaw,_ he thought. The though was almost more than he could bear. On the hill, through the trees, he could see Oakheart talking to Cinderpaw. The little gray she-cat looked so forlorn, and it seemed that she was only half-listening to Oakheart. The stillness of her shape disturbed Tinyclaw greatly.

_What happened to Brackenpaw seems to have sucked the energy right out of her,_ Tinyclaw observed. His paws swayed. _I should be down there with her, not Oakheart._

Tinyclaw turned away, heading far from the training hollow as fast as he could go. He couldn't bear seeing the way the Clan was just… moving on. The way they seemed to just ignore the fact that Tigerstar had lost a life, or that Brackenpaw was injured, or that Graystripe was betraying his Clan. It was all too much to bear!

His paws led him to Tallpines, where it was calm and quiet and still. The trees were heavy with snow, and it was coating the ground as far as Tinyclaw could see. His sides were heaving – moving through all that snow was hard for his shorter-than-average legs – but he was warm and far from the doom-and-gloom of camp.

Here it seemed that Tinyclaw was the only creature in the world – utterly alone in the whiteness. He let his paws guide him as he did his best to clear his thoughts. He could do nothing for Tigerstar. He could do nothing for Brackenpaw. He could do nothing for Graystripe.

He could do something for the kits.

Tinyclaw guided his paws towards Twolegplace. When he had been there last, just yesterday, the clump of catnip was lush – he hadn't taken much but for what he could stuff into his mouth quickly. There had to be some more that would help the Clan.

He headed for his old home, following the trees that backed the fences of the Twolegplace. He leaped onto his old fence, staring into his yard for a moment. The snow was pockmarked with little prints – not cat prints, but squirrel prints. Some squirrel must have been looking for their nuts.

Tinyclaw leaped down, kicking snow off of the fence as he went. He landed gracefully and headed for the catnip clump. There were still plenty of leaves, though they were buried in the snow. He dug gently into the snow with his small paws until the plant was laid bare.

He clipped off several leaves with his teeth – even with his mouth stuffed full, there was still enough leaves for at least another trip.

His mouth crammed full, Tinyclaw looked over his old home. Some part of him missed that easy life – no worries about sickness or death, no straying too near Thunderpaths. No injuries. No heartache. No sorrow.

_It would be all too easy to go back,_ Tinyclaw thought. _But that's not me anymore._

He leaped and bounded through the snow and up the fence. He balanced on top, grateful to leave his old home behind. He didn't need it there stirring up old thoughts, trying to get him to go back. He was a Clan cat – _a warrior._

_This catnip is going to my head,_ he decided. _I need to go back._

Then, suddenly, he thought of Fiona.

His paws took him down the fence line towards her nest. Snow covered her garden almost completely, but for a Twoleg-trodden trail from the early morning. He landed in her garden with a huff. He dug a hole in the snow with his paws – once it was large enough, he place the catnip inside.

With his senses cleared, he opened his jaws to breathe in the air. Fiona's scent was around, but it was stale, from days' past. Tinyclaw flicked his tail, concerned. Was she kitting? Was she sick? As these thoughts ran through his head, the cat-flap on Fiona's door twitched, and out she camp.

She was sleek and elegant, her fur long and crisp and white as the snow she walked through. Her belly had slimmed up, too – no trace of her kit-full belly remained. She let out a gasp as she spotted Tinyclaw, her blue eyes round and wide.

"Tinyclaw!" she purred.

"You've kitted!" Tinyclaw burst.

Fiona padded over, and touched her nose to his. She settled down in the snow, wrapping her plumy tail around her paws. "Yes, I have," she meowed.

"Did it go all right? Are the kits OK?" Tinyclaw wondered.

Fiona blinked at him. "Yes, they're fine," she replied. "I've only left them for a moment to stretch my legs – five kits are really a pawful to take care of!"

"Five!" Tinyclaw breathed. He purred. "That's amazing, Fiona!"

Fiona was nodding. "Yes, yes… I certainly didn't expect five! Four toms and one she-kit," Her eyes glowed at the thought. They darkened as they passed over Tinyclaw. "I didn't expect to see you out in this weather."

"Many of my Clan are ill," Tinyclaw explained. "I came to fetch catnip – it's a helpful herb our medicine cat can use to cure them."

"How many are sick?" Fiona wondered, worry in her eyes.

"Several," Tinyclaw replied. "More than can be counted on one paw. Our leader… he lost another life last night."

Fiona's eyes widened. Once Tinyclaw had told her how Tigerstar and the other leaders in the forest boasted nine lives, given to them by StarClan. It still seemed like she was reeling from the shock that the old she-cat's tale was true.

"Is he… all right?" Fiona wondered.

"He can go on," Tinyclaw assured her. "He has more than one life to spare – other cats don't. Brackenpaw doesn't."

"Brackenpaw?" Fiona repeated. Her eyes clouded as she tried to recall. Then, she flicked her tail. "Your apprentice! You spoke so fondly of him last time I saw you – him and his sister. What's wrong with him?"

"It was an accident," Tinyclaw told her, his voice clouding with grief. "He and Cinderpaw got too close to the Thunderpath, and he was struck by a monster. His leg is badly damaged, and Yellowfang doesn't think it will heal fully. He might never be a warrior."

"And Cinderpaw? Is she all right?"

"She is," Tinyclaw assured her. "But she's been very badly shaken – I think… I think she saw it all happen." _I haven't had the chance to talk to her,_ he realized. _I need to find out exactly what happened._

"That poor dear," Fiona fretted. "All because of some accident…"

"It should never have happened," Tinyclaw growled. _"I_ was supposed to meet Bluefur there in Tigerstar's place, not them – they went even though I told them not to! And… and there wasn't even any scent of ShadowClan there! It was such a dangerous place, too… she could have picked anywhere else!"

"Dangerous?"

"The verge there was very narrow," Tinyclaw told her. "Any cat could have been hurt like Brackenpaw was, or worse."

Fiona narrowed her eyes. "Forgive me, Tinyclaw, but it sounds like a trap."

"A trap?" Tinyclaw repeated. "For the apprentices?"

Fiona shook her head. "You said Bluefur had asked for Tigerstar," she reminded him.

Tinyclaw blinked in shock. Could Fiona be right? That verge had been so narrow, and Bluefur hadn't even been there when the apprentices had arrived as far as Tinyclaw knew. Had it been a trap for Tigerstar all along?

"I don't know," Tinyclaw told her. He shivered at the thought. "I just… I can't make that sort of assumption. Everything's so… wrong at the moment. Even Graystripe won't speak to me."

"Why ever not?"

"It's far too complicated to explain," Tinyclaw assured her. Fiona wouldn't understand the finer details as to why Graystripe meeting Silverstream was wrong – she would only see that they loved one another. "It's just so hard… being different. Not being Clanborn, that is."

Fiona's eyes softened. "You look Clanborn to me," she assured him. "But if you're not so happy… you can always come and live with my housefolk. I can put in a good word for you – or maybe I can talk with Rusty."

"Thanks," Tinyclaw purred. "But I can't. I belong with my Clan now – I don't know what I'd do if I was stuck in a Twoleg nest all day, unable to smell the fresh air or catch a mouse for dinner. I'd miss my Clanmates, and they'd miss me."

Fiona nodded knowingly. "Of course," she agreed. "I could never tear you from that wonderful life."

"You understand?"

Fiona answered, "Sometimes I stare out there myself, wondering what might lurk in the woods."

Tinyclaw touched his nose to hers. "Thanks," he told her. "For everything."

He turned to the catnip bundle. It wouldn't last long in the cold. "I need to get back," he told Fiona. "My Clan needs this catnip."

"Then perhaps my kits can meet you next time," Fiona decided. "I'm sure they'd love to see their uncle."

"I'd love to meet them, too," Tinyclaw purred, warmth rising in his chest.

"Maybe I can convince Rusty to come by, too," Fiona added. "If he's not too busy."

Tinyclaw smiled at her, appreciative of all her efforts to cheer him up. He picked up the catnip and leaped out of her garden, heading for home with a lighter heart.

* * *

><p>Oakheart's eyes glowed as Tinyclaw padded into the clearing. His amber eyes flitted from the catnip to Tinyclaw. "Good thinking, Tinyclaw – we could always use more catnip," he purred.<p>

Tinyclaw flicked his tail in answer. His mouth was water and his jaws were aching – some part of him never wanted to see a catnip bush again. He felt a lot better than he had in the morning, though – Fiona had safely kitted, and that was a good thing throughout all this gloom.

"I can take that to Yellowfang," Oakheart decided. "And… maybe you can talk to Cinderpaw."

Tinyclaw spat out the leaves on the ground. "Talk to her?" he wondered. "Is she OK?"

"She wants to talk to you," Oakheart told him. "But she's scared you might not let her speak. She wasn't focused at all during training today, and she finally told me why just before sunhigh. I'll leave her to you."

Oakheart called for Cinderpaw, and the young apprentice bounded over through the snow drifts. Oakheart took the catnip and headed for Yellowfang's den, leaving Cinderpaw and Tinyclaw alone in the snow.

Tinyclaw looked down at Cinderpaw, but she didn't meet his gaze. She seemed downcast, deeper in thought than Tinyclaw was sure she had ever been.

"What's up?" he asked, gently. "Oakheart said you wanted to talk to me."

Her body shook, quaking like a helpless bird. "It's my fault!" she cried.

Tinyclaw blinked, shocked at her outburst. "What is?" he asked.

"Brackenpaw!" Cinderpaw wailed. She looked up at Tinyclaw with wavering, sorrowful blue eyes. "Tinyclaw, it was my fault!"

"How?"

"He… He kept saying we shouldn't go," Cinderpaw sobbed. "He tried telling me not to go, but I went out the tunnel anyway… he ran after me."

"Oh," Tinyclaw breathed. His stomach churned, and suddenly he could see where Cinderpaw might be going with this.

"He caught up when I got to the Thunderpath, but by then…" Cinderpaw took a shaky breath. "The monster was coming, and if he hadn't… if he hadn't pushed me out of the way, _I'd_ be the one in Yellowfang's den, not him."

Tinyclaw felt a sense of understanding settle in him. So that was why Cinderpaw had been there, too! Tinyclaw would never have believed that Brackenpaw had gone of his own accord.

"It's my fault," Cinderpaw mumbled. She crouched low. "Brackenpaw won't ever be the same again, and it's _all my fault!"_

"Cinderpaw, Cinderpaw," Tinyclaw breathed. He nudged her gently, getting her to her paws. "It's not your fault, Cinderpaw. It was an accident."

"If I hadn't disobeyed your orders, though…"

"I would be shocked if you hadn't," Tinyclaw admitted. "Cinderpaw, you can't blame yourself for this… Brackenpaw will be all right."

Cinderpaw sniffled. "But… But he'll hate me…"

"No he won't," Tinyclaw soothed. "I don't think Brackenpaw could ever hate you, Cinderpaw. You're his sister – he _loves_ you."

Cinderpaw's eyes were round. "Love?"

Tinyclaw nodded. "Love – love can make cats do amazing things for those they care about. He risked his life for you… you might not be here at all if he hadn't."

Cinderpaw's eyes were wide, and she said nothing.

"Tinyclaw!"

Tinyclaw looked up. Bluefur was coming out of the nursery, lumbering through the snow. Bits of moss and bracken were caught in her fur – she might have been making herself a nest inside. With how large her belly was getting, it wouldn't be long before she was forced into the nursery for some time.

"I need a word with you," Bluefur growled. She narrowed her eyes at Cinderpaw. "You should be clearing out the elder's den."

Cinderpaw flicked her tail. She backed away a few paces before darting off to the elder's den to finish her work. Tinyclaw frowned – did Bluefur have to be so cold to an apprentice who has obviously suffered?

"I went to fetch catnip for Yellowfang," he told Bluefur. "Oakheart took it to her."

"I saw," Bluefur grunted. "That was thoughtful."

"What is it you wanted?" Tinyclaw wondered.

"I need to know where Graystripe has been going."

Tinyclaw froze. "I have no idea," he told her.

Bluefur's frown grew. Her eyes were cold. "Next time you see him, tell him he's confined to the fallen oak," she grunted.

"Yellowfang's old den?"

Bluefur nodded. "We need to stop this sickness from spreading, and that's the safest spot."

"Graystripe's just got a cold!" Tinyclaw reminded Bluefur. "Not greencough."

"A cold is bad enough – especially when it should have been better days ago," Bluefur retorted. "Cats with greencough are confined to Yellowfang's den. This sickness needs to be stopped, for the good of the Clan. We need strong warriors, especially with RiverClan being scented so far into our territory." Her eyes flashed unsympathetically.

_Sickness must be a great weakness to you,_ Tinyclaw thought.

"I'll tell Graystripe," Tinyclaw decided.

"And stay away from Tigerstar," Bluefur added.

Tinyclaw narrowed his eyes. "The greencough has left him, though," he told her.

"But his den is still reeking of sickness," Bluefur told him. "Until it's clear, no cat is to go inside. And by the way – Oakheart took Cinderpaw out for training today. Next time, it had better be you."

Tinyclaw watched her stalk away. He lashed his tail at her coldness. How could a cat ever get that way? It was clear that Cinderpaw wasn't in the mood for training. Still, he put it into his head to take her out tomorrow – maybe training might take her mind off of her guilt.

Sighing, he turned to the medicine cat's den. He doubted Yellowfang had put Brackenpaw anywhere near her greencough patients. He headed there, pushing through the fronds and into the den. The smell of sickness was in the air, and Yellowfang was sitting at a pile of herbs.

She heard him enter, for she flicked her tail and mewed, "Thanks for the catnip."

"You're welcome," Tinyclaw offered.

"We need it," Yellowfang told him. "Patchpelt's come down with greencough now." She waved her tail at the elder, whose patched pelt was rising and falling slowly in a nest beside the other ailing patients. Near him were Brindleface's poor kits, eyes and noses streaming with sickness.

"How's Brackenpaw?" Tinyclaw wondered, looking at the little tom.

Yellowfang sighed. "He's developed an infection in his leg," she rasped. "StarClan help me, but he'll have to fight this one off himself. I've done everything I can for him."

Tinyclaw's heart filled with sorrow. The young cat looked small and thin, stretched out so awkwardly in his nest. His leg stuck out, twisted and glistening with herbs and leaves and blood. He looked fevered, twitching occasionally.

He looked over at Yellowfang. Her fur was unkempt and sticking up, peppered with leaf dust and scraps of herbs. Her eyes were drooping and tired, and even her whiskers looked downtrodden. She was exhausted.

"Do you think Spottedleaf would have been able to stop this?" Yellowfang wondered unexpectedly. She met Tinyclaw's eyes.

Tinyclaw remembered the former medicine cat with a pang. She had been gentle and sure-pawed with her patients, and always seemed to know the right herb. Tinyclaw nudged Yellowfang and said encouragingly, "I'm sure she wouldn't be doing anything different."

Yellowfang twitched her shoulder in thanks.

Tinyclaw turned away, only to find that Frostfur's pale fur was blocking the entrance. The queen padded in and paused before Tinyclaw.

"I'm sorry," Tinyclaw managed. "I should have… I ought to…"

Her tail touched his mouth before he could say anything more. "Oh, Tinyclaw," she breathed. "I don't blame you at all."

She padded past him and Tinyclaw watched as she wound herself around her son.

* * *

><p>Graystripe was crunching on a vole when Tinyclaw returned from the medicine cat's den. Tinyclaw approached warily, not wanting to get into a fight.<p>

"Bluefur says you're confined to the fallen oak until you're better," he stated.

Graystripe flicked his tail. "No need," he said chipperly. "Yellowfang gave me the all-clear this morning. I'm clean."

Tinyclaw frowned and observed his friend. His nose was clear, and his eyes seemed much brighter. It seemed that all that remained of his sickness was a little bit of crust around his nose. Yet Tinyclaw couldn't help but feel a flash of frustration – any other time he would have teased his friend for looking like Runningnose, ShadowClan's medicine cat; but Tinyclaw was in no joking mood.

"Bluefur's noticed your disappearances," he hissed. "I can't cover you anymore now. Can't you stop seeing Silverstream, just for a little while?"

"Can't you stay out of my fur?" Graystripe shot back, eyes burning.

"Fine," he spat. "If that's what you want."

He turned away from his friend, knowing how harsh he had sounded. He didn't care – Graystripe didn't even ask how Brackenpaw was! How could his friend let Silverstream consume every bit of rationale he had?

_He doesn't even care about anything else anymore!_

Tinyclaw headed for the fresh-kill pile and picked up a sparrow. He took it to a deserted corner of camp to eat. He settled down and thought of Fiona, with all her little newborns toms and that one she-kit. He crunched on his sparrow and thought of seeing her again.


End file.
